


Blue Bond

by thecookiemomma



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Forced Bonding, M/M, Spirit Animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-29
Updated: 2011-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-20 20:26:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 50,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecookiemomma/pseuds/thecookiemomma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair gets the opportunity to reciprocate the actions that saved his life after Sentinel, too.   However, there are some major consequences for them, and through them, their coworkers and family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love Anna Fugazzi's Harry Potter fic called Bond (found [here](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2493456/1/Bond)) that links Harry and Draco together completely. I wrote one similar to that that linked Harry and Snape, but in a different way. I saw the opportunity here, and my mind wouldn't shut up until I took it. So, here is Blue Bond.
> 
> It does have heavy elements of the spiritual side of The Sentinel.

It had been a shitty day. To begin with, Jim had awakened him with a rant about the dishes in the sink. He'd forgotten to finish them up, instead finishing the grading he had to get done, and filling out a few reports about cases. True, they weren't official reports, but they were crib sheets: notes he used to remember things. It was how he _did_ finish his reports on time at work. He sat in the truck -- again -- and mused over the resulting argument. They were nearly late because of it. Blair had just had enough, and was tired, hungry and cranky enough to complain about it. Which never sat well, of course. He was absolutely sure there was not a harder man to live with than James Joseph Ellison. If there was, he didn't want to meet him.

When they did get to work, Simon called them in to the office, and brusquely informed them that the case they'd been working on almost non-stop for the last two weeks had now become a federal case, and that they'd solved it already, owing to having more information. That always made Jim even more frustrated. So, they were left with a few small cases to wrap up. That wouldn't have been a huge issue, except for the fact that they had a huge robbery interrupt them. It'd been one of their 'favorite' crooks. Johnny "the hand" Sampson. Johnny was a two-bit thief who had eluded even Jim. Jim was so frustrated by this guy that he'd growl at just hearing the man's name. If Blair needed to rile him up for something, like for an interrogation, all he'd have to do would be to mention he'd heard Johnny Sampson was at it again, and Jim'd growl like his panther, and move in for a kill. Simon had noticed. He was amused. Mostly. However, today, it was just another part of the building shitstorm that was hitting Blair Sandburg in the face. _Dammit._ He sighed, and closed his eyes, hoping Jim wouldn't be long.

When the shot fired out, he jerked his eyes open, and opened the door. Dammed if he was going to stay in the truck when Jim was in danger. His "Blessed Protector" needed a lot of protecting himself, most days, and Blair was the one to do it. He moved quietly and quickly toward where he'd heard the noise. What he saw on the ground made him bite his lip hard. Jim had been the one shot. It looked bad. He pulled out his mobile phone and called 911, then called Simon. After he did that, he sat down, and grabbed Jim's hand. The world around him tilted once, twice, then faded away.

* * *

 

He stood in the blue jungle again, gazing down at the panther. Prowler looked to be as injured as Jim was. _Duh, Sandburg. They were one and the same._ He gazed around, looking down at himself, as well. He recognized that he was in Howler's form, and gave a loud howl of pain and frustration at his partner's injuries. He wasn't sure what he'd be able to do, but he wanted to do what he could. He glanced around, and when nothing came to mind or to -- hand -- paw, whatever, he howled again, this one more of a clarion call of warning or a cry for assistance. A swift bird of prey soared toward them, and landed on the ground, changing into Incacha as he watched.

"Shaman." Incacha spoke, and Blair loped over to the man, then closed his eyes, encouraging his energies to change his form back into his native one for communication. He opened them again, standing before the older man as himself, and listened to him speak. "You have a choice."

 _Oh, great._ These conversations never ended well. "Okay." He drew the word out, as though he were listening to a half-complete answer from a student, or a very unlikely story from a perp. More the latter than the former, recently. "What is the choice, and what do I have to consider?" He wasn't going to step into this blind. He'd done that a couple times, and the last time it had ended up with him dead in the fountain. That was so not going to happen again.

"You may save your Watchman and be bound, or you may let him die and go free. Completely free." No more Guide duties, no more police force no more ... "But consider, your bond will run deeper than any known in your experience or learning. It is a responsibility and a gift." Great. Double edged sword. Incacha fell silent, and Blair nodded.

"Alright. What would I have to do to save him? I assume to let him die, I only need to sit here and watch, right?" And with those words, he felt something in his heart tear. He pretty much knew what he'd have to do. He may not like it, and hell, Jim/Prowler would go feral, but he wasn't going to let the man die.

"Do unto him as he has done unto you." Blair snorted at the Biblical allusion. He wasn't sure the real Incacha would have said it that way, but since the man was dead, Blair figured this was just the ... 'powers that be' and their way of communicating to him. He wondered what that meant, but the picture of Prowler jumping _through_ Howler's form was so strong that he couldn't doubt the clear meaning.

"Right." He nodded, and stopped to consider. Mostly so that he could say he took the time to do so when Jim asked.

He could let Jim die and go back to either police work or academia. He could pull a few strings, get his doctorate, and go on. But, though that would be a very profitable life -- either way, he realized very quickly that it would also be a very lonely one. He had gotten used to a grumpy, cranky Sentinel in his life, and wasn't sure he could live without the man. And Cascade needed him. Jim had the highest solve rate in the department. He was finally getting some of the recognition for his abilities and they were meshing together as a partnership -- barring those rare shitty days like today. He sighed, and shifted back into Howler. The choice was made. He had to do this.

"Your decision has been made," Incacha intoned, and Howler just nodded once, sticking his tongue out as a farewell before leaping through Prowler's form.

The world went black.

* * *

 

Jim woke up with a pounding headache. There were tubes sticking out of his arms, and Simon was sitting by his side. _Why Simon? Where was Blair?_ He frowned, and tried to speak, but Simon just shook his head. He nodded slowly, and even that hurt. He tilted his head a little, asking an obvious question.

Simon answered him, or he appeared to try. Jim couldn't hear him. He frowned, and lifted a hand slowly, enduring the pain, and cupped his ear. Simon spoke more loudly, and he could barely hear it. "Kid's in the next room." What? Why was Blair in the hospital too? And why were his senses all whacked out again? He thought they'd been through this already. "You're lucky to be alive, Jim." He catches that much. "We're not sure what Sandburg did, but he did something, and it kept you alive. Paramedics say you should be dead."

The shoe was on the other foot now. He's aware of at least part of how Blair felt after that bitch... He couldn't think of that. It still made him extremely angry to think of someone hurting his Guide like that. Then, after the anger bled away, the shame of his own actions poured back in. He could never repay the kid for all the help he'd given him, and he wasn't sure he could try. But that definitely wasn't the way to do it. He sighed, and tried to sit up, but couldn't. He gazed around the room, and frowned as his jaguar paced, working his way toward him. As he tried to sit again, Prowler -- what a cheesy name, but it had stuck -- nosed him back down. Simon seemed taken aback, but that might have been the words he spoke to his spirit animal. "Need to find Howler, buddy. Where is he? Where's Howler?" That one fit. Blair could whine and howl about the smallest things. Like those stupid dishes. "Go find Howler." He tried to jerk his head toward the door, and regretted it. Prowler stubbornly refused, instead curling on the foot of his bed, warming his feet like he was really there. "Alright. We'll do it your way. When I wake up, though, go find him, okay?" He got a whuffle of assent from the feline, and the two of them fell back into a catnap.


	2. Chapter 2

Simon sat in the hard chair, watching Jim's weird behavior. It might have been the anesthesia, though he hoped not. They'd had a hell of a time finding the right kind of anesthesia that wouldn't fuck with his senses. Simon snorted. It was great having him on the force, but he wouldn't want to trade places with his detective for all the shiny stars in the sky. That man had some serious stuff to deal with, and Sandburg was the only thing keeping him from -- wait. Didn't they have a doctor who knew about this stuff? Or at least that nurse. He stroked his chin with his thumb and forefinger, reaching toward his pocket to pat where his cigar sat. Damn hospitals. He watched Jim talk to something that wasn't there, or at least that Simon could see, and then curl up without another word or complaint, and go back to sleep. He didn't recognize the language Jim spoke, though it was possibly the language from that tribe he spent all that time with. Had to be.

He stood up after he was sure Jim was more deeply asleep, and stepped out into the hallway to find their doctor. Maybe he could convince him to try something. If Sandburg was what Ellison needed, then, maybe Ellison was what Sandburg needed. The doctors were stumped as to why Sandburg hadn't awakened yet. He had no physical reason. If he didn't wake soon, they were going to have to move him to the ICU to make room for more mobile patients. Simon had tried to stall the move, thinking that the closer they were together, the better. Maybe they needed to be even closer yet.

This mystical crap made his head hurt.

He walked through the door and out into the hallway, finding the nurse on duty. She directed him to a small waiting area, and he picked up a magazine, leafing through it for a few minutes before the doctor came out. "Hey, Doc, I have an idea. It's a long shot, but it might be just what they need." Luckily, the man was willing to work with him, Jim stayed asleep, and they were able to move both men into a double occupancy room without a lot of struggle or fuss.

The effect was almost immediate. Jim woke up and glanced around, looking at his surroundings. When he saw they were in a different room, he scanned it slowly, assessing for threats. However, that stopped when he saw Blair. He sat up slowly, and tried to reach the younger man. He couldn't, and groaned loudly. He started whispering toward the foot of the bed, still speaking in that foreign language. Finally, after a long, frustrated sigh, Jim turned to him, cleared his throat and rasped, "Simon?"

He moved his chair closer, and leaned in to hear what Jim had to say. "What, Jim?"

"Need to be closer. Touching."

This was a development. He rolled his eyes, and stepped out of the room again to find the nurse.

* * *

 

Jim woke up and immediately did a threat assessment. Huh. Different room, bigger, means two... Two. His scan took on a quiet insistence and his suspicions were confirmed. Blair was in the other bed. His "Blessed Protector" sense stopped tingling, and he leaned back, relaxing a bit. However, it wasn't enough. He felt the need to physically connect with the man. After leaning forward to try to touch his Guide, he groaned and fell back onto his pillow. He wasn't sure how he could do it, but maybe he could try something first.

"Prowler," he called to the jaguar still resting on his feet. "Go get Howler for me, please? Can you? Can you wake him up?" The big cat moved over to the other bed, sniffing, pushing, even curling up right on Sandburg's chest, but it had no effect. He even tried licking the man's skin. That made Jim feel weird, but it was worth a shot. "Wonder what we have to do." Prowler gave up and returned to his side, growling softly at the separation between the beds. "Alright. I'll talk to him." He sighed deeply, and turned toward his boss. "Simon?"

Simon leaned in closer, and responded. "Yeah, Jim?"

Jim made his request. "Need to be closer. Touching." He watched his captain's face as the older man rolled his eyes and stood up, then left the room. He couldn't help a snort, and it seemed Prowler agreed with him. The cat shook his head with a vague sort of amusement, and returned to licking his paws. "Cut that out, kid. It's unnerving me right now." Prowler gave a soft growl and got down from the hospital bed to pace around the room as much as he could.

Simon returned rather quickly, and moved the chair out from between the beds. Then he pulled the privacy curtains back to their alcoves, one at a time, and then stood there in the corner, waiting for something. After a few long moments, the doctor and two orderlies came in. "You need physical contact? This is a new development. I need to be informed of these things. I can't -- "

Jim cut him off. "Sorry, Doc. When you say 'new development', it's so new I didn't even know about it until now." He gave a cheerful smile, and held up his hands in surrender. "I just need to be near him." And to check him over, make sure he's not physically hurt. Beyond that, he wasn't sure. There was something else boiling and roiling inside him, but it only made him shudder when he thought about it.

"Okay. I understand this is an evolving situation." _You got that right, Doc._ Jim thought as the orderlies finally pushed the beds together. "Notify me of any change, Mister Ellison. And I mean _any_ change."

"Yes sir." Jim put on his most docile face and watched them leave. "Simon... Um..."

"I need to go call in to the station anyway. Rhonda's probably got twenty messages for me. I'll give you thirty or so." He started to head to the door.

"Thank you, Simon. You're all heart." Jim grinned, the relief flooding through him.

"Shut up, Ellison, and get on with that Voodoo stuff. I don't want to hear about it."

Jim chuckled, and waved a hand as the man stepped out the door. Then, he set to work.

First, he grabbed Blair's hand, checking it over thoroughly. Then, he moved his hands up along his arm, his shoulder... He even propped himself up a little more to smell his armpits. The part of him that was mostly rational was protesting, but he was in full-instinct mode, and couldn't be bothered to pay attention. He ran his hand over Blair's torso, scooting just that much closer, still unsatisfied. He looked down at Prowler. "What am I missing here, Fuzzball?" Prowler tilted his head, and moved up to Blair's face, licking slowly, cleaning his skin. "No. You're kidding. He's not Sleeping Beauty, is he?" He snickered at his own joke, and then frowned. It seemed right. He'd never really considered Blair in this way, but if there was someone he'd trust with his deep secrets, it would be Sandburg.

"Alright. I'll give it a shot." Prowler shot him a look that said basically, 'get on with it, stupid', and Jim chuckled, then shifted a little more. He ignored his own pain and moved the IV stand toward the head of the bed to give his arm more room to move. After he got himself arranged, he threw his outside arm over Blair's body, and used it to pull his body over the other man's, somewhat. When that was complete, he inhaled -- a cleansing breath -- and lowered his lips to Blair's.

Sensation exploded. It was more intense than coming 'on-line' had been. Colors swirled around his head in halos almost as intense as the Golden haze. Sounds ratcheted up to the point that he imagined he could hear electrons zipping around, orbiting their respective nuclei. He could smell things -- and people -- floors above him, below him, and rooms and rooms beyond him. He could pick out Simon's distinctive smell, even though he was two halls over in the waiting room. Aftershave, cigar, that odd smell from the station, and something that labeled him clearly in Jim's mind. His Guide would say it was just the man's chemical composition and that Jim could differentiate how it smelled from everyone else. Taste -- all he could taste right now was Blair, and damn if the man's mouth wasn't moving with his, opening up to welcome the kiss. Touch -- his skin was on fire, and the hospital gowns were in the way. He needed to take care of Blair. In about a million different ways. But this was not the place. So, extremely reluctantly, he pulled himself off his ... mate ... and rolled back, making sure to keep some portion of skin touching Blair's.

Blair. The other man inhaled sharply, and opened his eyes.

"What the fuck, Jim?"

Oh, boy.

* * *

 

Blair was still in the jungle. He couldn't figure out how to get out of it. There was a long string, white, thin, and strong like a spider's web. It seemed to lead out into ... reality, but he didn't know how to follow it. He didn't even feel like he ought to follow it. Instead, he sat beside a strong, flowing river, drinking its water and playing fetch with Howler. The wolf had appeared and stuck around shortly after he had awakened here and transformed back into himself and settled himself by the river. He wasn't sure what the difference was now, but there was one. For one thing, that gossamer thread hadn't been there before. For another, he used to be able to enter and leave the Jungle by himself. At will. It was something he'd discovered shortly after his own brush with death. He wasn't sure exactly why, but he wasn't asking too many questions.

After a while, he lay down, curled up against his own spirit animal. The thought made him snicker, and even the gray wolf gave him an amused expression. _Sleeping with myself. Now, that's a new one._ He rolled his eyes, and settled in for a nap. A lifetime of travel had taught him to grab a nap any time he could. He had slept anywhere and everywhere possible, as he'd told Jim one time. Snuggling up to a wolf was new, but warm. He'd be fine.

When he awoke, he realized he wasn't hungry. That was something in and of itself. He didn't have to piss either, so he assumed his body was fine. Usually that sort of thing translated in, so that you'd know to be able to leave to care for yourself. Unless something was really wrong. He considered what Incacha had said, mulling over all the different types of male partnerships in the world. 'Deeper than any in your experience or learning.' If it had just been 'in your experience', he wouldn't have worried too much. But he'd studied all sorts of societies, all sorts of partnerships and -- but 'partnership' wasn't the word the shaman had used. It was 'bond.' That was important as well.

Damn. Why couldn't he think? He had all this study, all these memories and years of research, and he couldn't remember a dammed thing. He paused, running a hand through his hair, watching Howler prowl around like his brother-spirit, patrolling the border of their little glen. _Okay. I can do this._ He pursed his lips, and thought again about the partnership he had with Jim. He was his Guide. His partner at work. His roommate -- well, housemate. Jim had connected spirits with him when that bitch/false Sentinel had taken him away. Then, when someone had shot Jim, he'd joined spirits with him again to save him. Reciprocal -- hey. Now there was something. And the strand of spirit-spiderweb began to glow a little more brightly as though he'd discovered something new.

Reciprocal bond. Well, he knew several kinds. There was the Master / slave bond, which was only reciprocal in certain ways. If the slave had affection for his Master, or it was a social construct set up to meet a need in an unaccepting society, the reciprocity was more real. And that could get _very_ intense. Very intimate, too. He snorted, and let his mind wander further along that line. In some societies, men were allowed to marry. Or 'civilly join.' So, he was aware of marriage as a partnership between two men. Marriage, especially a good one, was definitely reciprocal. Depending on the society, there were clearly defined roles, but within those spheres, the flexibility and reciprocity could make or break the relationship.

He wondered why this wasn't freaking him out more. Howler loped back over toward him, nuzzling him in the chest. He absentmindedly petted the scruffy wolf, and shook his head. He was going to have a huge road ahead of him; he had to convince Jim Ellison that they needed to be as close as a mated pair. Closer, actually. He wasn't quite sure how they would accomplish it, but if Incacha said it was necessary, he would dammed well follow it. Last time he didn't pay attention to the old man, he'd died.

As he continued to think, though, he realized that there was some instinct driving him on. Something drawing him closer to his best friend. There was a need to awaken, to touch, to kiss -- he closed his eyes against the thought. It wasn't one he'd consciously considered, but now that it was there, it began to show itself weaving through his words and actions throughout their relationship. From the first day when Jim had slammed him up against the wall to when he'd allowed his career to plummet to the depths of infamy for Jim's safety, little things -- and some not so little ones -- were there. Signs, maybe. Things like how upset he was about Margaret. Or how innately pleased he had been to see Jim sitting there eating his favorite food. Now the part about his roommate and his mother -- that brought up some definitely ambivalent feelings. But he realized that recently, he'd even begun to find Jim's harping on his bad habits to be endearing. And -- he was shocked to admit to himself -- he'd been setting himself up for things. Like the incident this morning (or whenever it was) with the dishes. He'd remembered looking at the dishes and giving a sadistic little grin. He'd _known_ Jim'd blow his top. He'd done it on purpose. Not consciously, but he had set the situation up, and sat back and watched the fireworks.

"Oh, man!" He was in love with Jim. Now to convince Jim it was a good thing. _Damn. This was going to be difficult._ Howler just looked at him like he knew something Blair ought to know. "What?" No response was forthcoming, so he leaned back against the tree he'd picked, and sighed. He felt the pull of the 'world', yanking on him from the silver thread, and happily followed it upward toward 'the light.'

Where Jim was kissing the ever-living daylights out of him. He suppressed a groan, merely opening his mouth and beginning to participate with the kiss. It was heavenly. Thoughts he'd never even dreamed of thinking crossed his mind. He was seeing stars. If he wanted to, he could count them, shape them into constellations. Damn, Jim was a good kisser.

However, the kiss didn't seem to last too long. Jim pulled off of him, rolled over onto his own hospital bed, and gave a frustrated sigh. He pulled the IV tree a little further over so that he could settle down -- his skin still touching in places, burning with a comforting fire -- and then gazed predatorily at Blair.

Blair wanted to talk to him. He wanted to tell him the realization he'd come to in the jungle, that it was okay, that they needed to be this close. However, his body was thrumming with the pleasure of the kiss, and his brain wouldn't work. And there was something stuck in his arm, too. All that would come out was, "what the fuck, Jim?"

"Chief?" The relief in Jim's eyes nearly undid him right there. He closed his eyes for a moment, and sighed.

"Yeah." He was here. He was present. "Where are we, anyway? And how come I get to have you wrapped around me, kissing the living shit outta me?" He started to pull up his hand, but didn't want to pull on the IV, so settled it back down. "Not that I mind, man. I thought sure I was gonna have to convince you. Get all sneaky and go 'Guide' on you to get you to listen. Instead, I wake up and you're -- "

Jim held up a hand to forestall the words pouring out of his mouth. Blair sometimes appreciated when he did that. He knew that he tended to talk a lot more when he was nervous. Jim's manner of cutting him off helped him stave off the nerves that got him in trouble. "It's okay, Chief. Don't worry. I don't know what's going on. All I know is since you did whatever you did in the jungle, I've been needing to touch you. It hurts when I don't. My senses are going all haywire here, Blair, and I can't think straight without some serious PDA going on. And I have this need to check you over like -- well, like Prowler checks himself after a fight." They'd begun to see their spirit animals a lot more often lately. That's why they'd ended up naming them. Blair had named Prowler, though Jim tended to call to him and talk to him in Quechua. If Blair was understanding the nuances correctly, "Prowler" transliterated into something like, "He-who-stalks-the-borders-watching". It wasn't quite the same word they used for the Sentinels, but it was pretty similar. Blair thought it was hilarious. His thoughts were interrupted by Jim's blunt question. "What the hell did you do to us, Hero?"

"Um, Jim?" He inhaled, preparing to explain. "You remember when I -- when I died at the fountain and you -- you jumped through me while in Prowler-form?" They could change at will in the 'jungle', but here, their animals remained themselves.

"Well, duh, Einstein. Saved your scrawny little ass, didn't I?" He looked smug. 'Me Blessed Protector. You Victim. Ugh ugh ugh.' Blair snorted, and ran his hand down to their hips, where skin met skin, rubbing gently on Jim's exposed hipbone, stoking the fire.

"Shut up, man. Well, I was sitting there in the truck fuming about things, cuz it had been a shitty day, after all, and I heard the shot. So, I got out of the truck to see what I could do to help you, make sure it wasn't you, that sort of thing."

"Again." He sounded resigned. Amused. Well, this was a good sign, Blair supposed. He could be angry, still.

"Yeah. Well, you'd been shot. So, I called 911, then called Simon. Then, I grabbed your hand, to encourage you. You know. Give you good energies. And I got sucked into the jungle." They'd started calling it that, not knowing what else to call it. Neither were very keen on Naming it. 'We were pulled into a spirit realm, Simon. Which is a jungle covered in this eerie blue light. That's how we know we're not in Kansas anymore.' Yeah. That'd go over really well. "Incacha was there."

"Incacha's dead, Chief. I don't think he could come back, even for us." Jim moved his hand to rest against Blair's, the heat increasing, but pouring comfort into an old ache as well. There was a sense of pure need beginning. Though he could name it: he felt like a kayaker on the crest of a waterfall, ready to take the drop. "I wouldn't mind seeing the guy if he could, though."

"Oh, I know that Jim. I don't think it was really him, but his image. Someone we know who's walked the paths of the jungle safely and could guide me." He closed his eyes for a moment, composing himself for the next part. "He gave me a choice." Jim's eyebrows shot straight up, and his face paled slightly.

"That's never a good sign."

"No kidding, Jim." Blair gave a short, nervous laugh, and continued. "So, his choice was that I either save you, and create this bond between us -- which is probably why neither of us is freaking out about the fact that we're so close -- and we're gonna get closer yet, by the way. I don't know how much, though. His words were, 'a bond deeper than any you have known in your experience or learning.' If it was just experience, man, we'd be good. But I know about a lot of different kinds of bonds. And some of them run pretty deep. There's this bond / relationship / partnership thingy in this tribe in the African Desert that -- " It only took a look this time. Blair stopped rambling, and nodded. "Right. Sorry. The other side of the choice was that I let you die. I couldn't do that Jim. Even before I realized -- " Well. That was more than he intended to say just yet. "Well, even before I realized some things, I did know I didn't want you to die."

Jim's hand tightened on his own, offering more comfort, seeming to understand. "I hear you, Blair." The familiar words seemed to cheer him more than he thought possible, and he nodded. "What did you have to do, though? How did you save me? And how did that cause this bond?"

"Well, it's the principle of reciprocity, Jim. I -- Howler jumped right through you. Just like you did with me."

"And since you did the same thing to me for a similar reason, you created this bond. Kind of like when two families save each other, and they have kids who can marry. They often do, just because they're that close." Jim shifted a little so he could stroke his chin while still leaving his hand on Blair's.

"Right. Exactly. Except, because we're tied so tightly together already, because we've saved each other a lot, man. Like a million times or more, right?" Jim nodded, an indulgent smile on his face. "Well, this was in the spirit realm. So, now -- I think it means we're bound at the spirit. Or you know -- like soulmates or something."

"Soulmates? Isn't that a romantic thing?" Jim frowned. "Because, Chief, I have to admit, I do -- kinda -- feel that way for you, but it's a really new thing. I don't know if it was _caused_ by this thing, or if I'm just seeing it now, but I don't really trust in the theory that there's one person for every person out there. It doesn't add up."

Blair was the one attempting to hold his hand up now. "No. Not like that. 'Soulmate' is a bad word, Jim. Or a poor word choice. More like -- 'spirit-partner.' 'Spirit spouse.'" He frowned. "Ritual holds a lot of meaning, Jim. We've found that out, haven't we?" He snickered. "I mean, even if it doesn't actually do anything physical, a lot of times, there are things going on in the spiritual, or in that jungle part, or whatever you want to call it. Well -- prime example. When you married Carolyn, you realized something happened between you. When you divorced, it took awhile for that bond to fade, right?"

Jim looked thoughtful, and Blair realized this was the point when he started to understand. "Right. I knew I was married to her. It took a very long time for me to stop turning around, expecting her to be right there. You're saying this is like that?"

"Even more so, man." Blair turned his hand over to slide his fingers between Jim's. "This thing -- well, it's even stronger than that was. We had three layers -- well, three or four layers -- of relationship laid down before this even happened. The Sentinel and his Guide, the cop and his partner, the landlord and his freeloading tenant, and the friend and his friend. At least those four. Not to mention whatever it is that's building between us. I realized, Jim, while I was sitting by a tree, petting Howler and waiting for you to call me back, that I've been pushing toward this since you slammed me up against the wall. I realized that I've fallen hard for you." He let his fingers explain more of what he meant, sliding them in and around and between, pressing, touching, tickling.

"Don't -- " Jim's voice sounded a little rough. "Don't do that just yet, Romeo. I don't think we can deal with the consequences here in this hospital." His face was flushed, and Blair thought he looked absolutely amazing.

"I have an idea, though, Jim." He smiled wickedly. "Come into the jungle with me." He looked over to where Prowler and Howler were curled up, nuzzling on each other and licking each other's fur. It was not exactly normal behavior for the wolf, Blair thought, but it made sense. Prowler needed it, and Howler gave. Exactly how it should be.

"Well, we have to get the doctor in here first. But if he makes us stay tonight, you can bet your ass I'm joining you there, Sandburg. And you're showing me this little hollow you slept in, because -- " He growled, sounding so much like his spirit-form that Blair had to laugh. "You ready for the rigamarole?"

"Bring it on, Big Guy." Blair beamed over at his partner.

"Shut up, Sandburg." Jim growled, and pushed the call button.

The nurses ran in, putting a stop to any more interesting conversation for the time being.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: I realize that it's a fanon thing for Blair to have a known middle name, and it's common for it to be Jacob. I just really liked the combination, so it's neither my invention, nor (as far as I know) Pet Fly's. So, to whomever came up with it first, I tip my hat.

The doctor was suitably amazed. Jim seemed to be healing well, but mostly achy. He pushed extremely hard to be able to recover at home, and their doctor saw no reason not to, especially if he came back in later in the week for a checkup. He wanted to keep them overnight for observation, but because of Jim's half-assed explanations that admittedly included a lot of 'It's a Sentinel thing, you wouldn't get it, just trust us', he was willing to allow them to leave tomorrow. At least he would if they made it through the night with no complications.

Jim did ask that they limit the amount of nurses popping in. He didn't mind if they checked in on him a few times, or whatever, but to have them weighing and measuring and poking and prodding -- well, it would interrupt whatever it was that Sandburg had in mind. And probably would count as a 'complication' when they didn't respond right away. He also mentioned that they might sleep a little more deeply than normal, and that it was part of the experience. The doctor gave him a strange look at that, but he shrugged and said it was a guess, but an educated one. Finally, all the staff cleared out, Simon gave his goodbyes, adding his traditional, "I do not want to know" spiel, and they were alone.

"Finally. I thought they'd _never_ leave, Chief." He slid his hand back over to grab Blair's. It felt so dammed good. His sense of touch seemed to ground out whenever he touched Blair. Blair was like a touchstone. A landmark. In every sense. Sight, sound, touch, taste, hearing. All of it. He grinned, and gazed over at the man beside him. "So, what do you want to do tonight, Brain?"

"Same thing we do every night, Pinky. Try to take over the world!" Blair snickered, and rolled over onto his side to look at him. "God, Jim. How have I never noticed how hot you are?"

Jim snickered, and leaned in to give him a light kiss. "I don't know, Chief. But you're not so bad looking yourself. So, you wanna take us both in, or should I follow Prowler?" Blair could guide them in together, or Jim could follow Prowler in after him. But if he followed Prowler, there was the chance they'd end up miles apart from each other, and would have to spend the better portion of their night even finding each other. Jim knew what the other man's answer would be. Duh.

"You're funny, Jim." Blair chuckled. "C'mon. Deep breathing. Cleansing breath. Here we go. Keep a hold of my hand. Follow my voice. We'll go into the spot you pulled me out from. It's beside the river, with that weird shaped tree. There's the clearing without too many rocks, and not the one with the stuff you're allergic to." Thank goodness for that. "It's warm, it's peaceful -- it's ... " Jim tuned out Blair's words, and followed the sound into somewhere-else.

When he 'landed', he was still holding Blair's hand, and they were indeed at that spot beside the river. Jim's trained eyes could see the exact spot where Blair -- and probably Howler -- had curled up to sleep. He purposefully strode toward it, dragging Blair along. "C'mon, Sandburg. I have this -- this need to make sure you're okay. Like -- all over." It was tough to say those words out loud, but he managed.

Blair's eyes shone with pride. He knew just how private Jim could be. And how tough it was for him to say that kind of thing. "Alright, Jim. Do you want me to undress, or do you want to strip me slowly while you ... examine me?"

Oh, fuck. That went straight to his cock. "I think that'd be a really good idea. I'll try to be gentle. That was one thing about being in the beds. You just had that dammed gown on." He could check him over pretty easily. He had checked over what he could. Now, it was time for a much more thorough examination.

"Well, there must be some reason we showed up here fully clothed. Maybe it's part of whatever ritual examination you need to do. Because I have a feeling the first part of this -- this bond thingy is going to involve lots of little rituals until we're satisfied we're connected properly."

Jim nodded. That made a lot of sense. He had a feeling he was going to be the one needing all the little rituals, and Blair would be the one setting them up. It seemed to work that way between them. Blair may have gotten what he needed from the rituals, but it seemed that he was the one who asked for them on a more regular basis. He freed his hand from Blair's, and placed it on top of Blair's head. He wasn't exactly sure what he was doing, but it seemed right. His other hand came up behind it, and between the two of them, they began a gentle exploration through Blair's locks.

As usual, Sandburg was wearing a ponytail holder, and Jim pulled his mate's hair free with a quick pull, trying not to catch too much hair in the process. He knew some always fell out, because he could see it on the floor of the loft, but if he did it right, he'd only pull a few strands. He dropped the band on the ground, near the little hollow. He ran his hands through the long, curly strands, gently easing out the biggest of the knots before moving back up to his skull to massage gently. His thumbs slid around the sides of this head to touch his ears gently before they continued on to run gently along the planes of Blair's face. Luckily, the man wasn't wearing those glasses, so he didn't have to cast them aside.

His senses fed him raw data in stacks. Reams. He could see the droplets of sweat forming at the top of his forehead, dripping down Blair's skin slowly. He could smell the arousal building in his partner's sweat, the pheromones beginning to work on him more than Laura's ever thought to. Sandburg had once mentioned to him that taste was 90% smell, so he inhaled sharply, and let the scent drift down to his tongue, pulling in the kisses they'd exchanged for correlation and cross-reference. He listened to his heartbeat speed up, his breath hitch and whistle; he heard the tiny snorts that meant that Blair was trying to control himself. And touch. If he wasn't dammed careful, he could zone out on just the touch of the skin of the man beside him. He could lose himself in the feel of the small ridges and hairs and lines. The scars that were new since Sandburg started working with him stood out more clearly when he ran his fingers over them. He found one at Blair's temple. It was a tiny thing, but he could recall the incident that put it there. Another one ran down his cheek right near his ear. He could remember that incident, too. Like a cartographer, Jim mapped the miles of epidermis, feeding all of his senses a new, more complete baseline. This was Blair Jacob Sandburg. This was Mate.

He continued to work his way down Blair's body, undoing the buttons slowly, and studiously learning the map of skin beneath each piece of clothing. Neck. Torso. Arms. Hands. Legs. Feet. By this time, he had Blair laying flat out on the ground, and had somehow shucked his own clothes. All that remained between them were their jeans, and whatever undergarments lay beneath. Blair panted heavily, and his heart thumped wildly. Jim was amazed he couldn't see the thing popping out of his chest. It was so loud. So nearby. He grinned and started to undo the button on Blair's pants, leaning out a little so that Blair could reach his.

"C'mon, Romeo, work with me here." He nearly growled his frustration at the zipper, and let out a puff of relief when the thing slid down. Blair lifted his hips slowly, letting Jim ease his jeans off, and pulled his underwear down with them. Jim felt himself shudder at the information overload he was receiving. It wasn't too much, but it was close.

"Man, don't zone on me now, Jim. C'mon. Please. Stick with me here, buddy." Blair ran his hand over Jim's arm, and Jim shivered again.

"Don't do that just yet, Blair. Let me get used to this. Since you -- since you brought me back, my dials need recalibration." He figured that was the easiest way to say it. "What was ten is now -- " It took a moment for him to consider. "Around two."

"What?" That shocked his Guide. Jim laughed. "And you're just now telling me this?"

"When was I supposed to tell you, Einstein? When we were necking? Or when the doctor was prodding you?" He growled the last part, not liking anyone else touching his mate before he could lay claim to him. "Fuck!" He growled again. "I really am a Neanderthal, aren't I?"

"No, Jim. You're a Sentinel. And they're not the same thing." Blair's soothing voice calmed him again, and he returned to looking/touching/smelling/tasting/listening. Soon, though, he had finished his Sensory Map of the Land of Blair, and chuckled softly.

"So. Do you have anything _you_ need to do, or can I carry on with -- with claiming you?" He sat astride the younger man, leaned back so that their legs only touched, and crossed his arms.

"N-no, I think I'm good, Jim."

"I _know_ you're good." Jim muttered, but he was grinning. "So, I can continue and fuck you?"

"That sounds like a ... a brilliant plan, there, Big Guy." Blair's attention shifted lower as he spoke, making an obvious pun.

"Oh, come on." Blair's lewd pun made him blush like a schoolgirl. "Alright." Jim lowered himself slowly toward Blair, hands moving again, this time with a very different intent. He was already as aroused as hell, of course, and Blair was getting there, but his instinct told him that he needed to be doing _more_. He needed to be taking that map, and using it to its best advantage. Camping here, because small touches made him breathe funny. Stopping right here because if he licked, touched, tasted, Blair's scent got stronger. Moving downward, he kept a campaign of pushing those small buttons going. Push. Pull back just a little. Push some more. Pull back just a tiny bit. On and on and on. The instinct required that Blair be nearly mindless with need. And speaking of need --

"Chief, do you have some sort of greasy stuff?" The spirit world was odd. Sometimes, it'd let you get away with stuff, and other times, every attention to detail was required.

"Um, yeah. If those are the right jeans, and I think they are, there's some stuff in the pocket. If it's not there, we may not need it."

"I'm not going to dry-fuck you. Not even here."

"No, Jim, I'm just saying if it's not there, then something else is going on, that's all." Jim nodded his understanding, and reached over to grab the article of clothing. Sure enough, there was a small tube of stuff in the man's pocket.

"Sandburg," Jim had a horrible thought when he pulled the tube out. "No more catting around." He uncapped the thing, and poured a generous amount into his palm. He screwed the lid back on, and set it aside, slicking up his fingers to prepare his lover. "No more pretty coeds. Or cops. Or waitresses. Or -- "

"I get the point, Jim." Blair snarled, frustrated. Jim smelled enough arousal not to be too worried, though. "Same for you. No more diamond thieves, or Russian journalists, or God-fucking-forbid, batshit insane Sentinels."

"Right. Only you. Just you, Chief. Just you. After I get this done, after I -- oh, I don't know -- log all this data into my mind, I'm not gonna want anybody else. Not sure I'll ever be able to have anybody else." Jim was as shocked as the expression he saw on Blair's face. But there was a sense of rightness to it. This was required. "This thing? Closer than any bond you've known or heard of? Fucker was right. I am imprinting on you. Or more accurately, imprinting you into and on to my senses. I finish this process, there's no going back. No stepping away. Hell, high water, bullets, the works, Chief. You're mine, and I'm yours." He waited for Blair's response. This was the last checkpoint. After this, after he started the process of opening him up, even here in the spirit world -- Hell, _especially_ here in the spirit world, this was it.

"I don't -- I don't usually quote the Prophets, man, but this's got me doing so." Blair gazed up at him, and Jim inhaled sharply at the fire in his eyes. "'Entreat me not to leave you, or to -- quit following you. Where you go, I will go. Where you live, I'll live there too. Where you die, that's where I'll die, and that's where I'll be buried.' It's not quite quoted correctly, and you're not my mother-in-law, but the idea's there, Jim. I'd already decided that I wasn't going to do anything else but be with you, whatever that meant. If that means we go to Mars together, man, I'll get over my fear of heights, and put on a pretty white spacesuit."

Now it was Jim's turn to be floored. Sandburg always had a way of phrasing things so well. Always had a quote or a story or pure bullshit, but it got the job done. Jim could read the honesty in his eyes, his scent, his heart rate, and gloried in it. "Alright, Blair. Here we go." He grinned again, and reached a finger down to Blair's ass to slick him up, to open him for Jim's cock.

* * *

 

Blair quoted Ruth mostly effortlessly, and watched Jim's face. The ardor and intent visible to him there called to his soul, and he sighed. He had expected this part to be a lot harder than it was turning out to be. That could be because Jim was running on pure instinct. He hoped Jim was still alright with this after they 'came down' from this high. But for now, he was intent on just enjoying whatever little ritual Jim needed. It appeared to be thorough, enjoyable and downright awesome. He grinned and relaxed enough to allow Jim to slide one slick finger inside his anus.

"You'll tell me if this doesn't feel right." It wasn't a request.

"Oh, I sure will, man." Blair agreed easily. Not only because Jim was all Mister Instinct, but because he really intended to 'begin as we mean to go on,' and he damn sure intended to use those stellar senses for something other than crime scenes now that Jim belonged to him. He inhaled when Jim's finger massaged around, finding the right spot without a lot of fuss.

"Good?" There was that smug look again.

"Oh, yeah, man." And he sounded as breathless as one of those young coeds. "Fuck yeah. 'Nother one, Jim."

"Alright, keep your -- actually, _don't_ keep your shirt on." Haha. He was so funny. Blair started to tell him so, and was stopped short by a second slicked finger joining the first, stretching, scissoring around in very precise circles.

"Fuck. Even your prep is precise, man. This is amazing." Blair shifted a little, trying to get those fingers back on his prostate. "C'mon, Jim..." He wiggled a little more.

"Stop it, Sandburg. Let me do this. Please." The seriousness in Jim's voice was enough to stop Blair's teasing cold. He stilled.

"Alright, man, whatever you need. This time it's your show. I can't guarantee I won't need a similar experience sometime." He hissed as Jim added the third finger.

"Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Chief. You ready?" Jim seemed a little nervous now. There was a preciousness to this moment, a near sacredness, and Blair's breath hitched. "What?" Jim frowned.

"It's nothing, Jim, just realizing how -- how -- " Words failed him, and he flailed his hand around a bit, settling it back down on his stomach. He considered sliding it down to play with his aching erection, but figured that'd be pushing things a bit too far. "It's -- deep." That was lame. And a horrible description. "I can't -- I can't explain this. That whole thing with the rituals and the spirit world and connections and -- " He stopped, taking a deep breath. "This is it, man. And you know what?" Jim tilted his head, but kept silent, waiting for Blair's next words. He chose them carefully. "The water's fine." He grinned.

"Yeah, Chief. The water's fine." And without any more warning, Jim's fingers disappeared, and were replaced almost immediately with his cock. "Oh, man, does that feel good, Blair."

"Mmm, yeah. Feels pretty good down here, too. Damn." He grunted and groaned, shifting his legs a bit to allow better access, and to improve the angle. "Keep comin' Jim." He grinned. "I want the whole thing."

"Greedy bastard." Jim snickered, but kept a steady, slow pressure. Soon, he was completely seated, and as luck would have it, nudging gently against Blair's prostate.

"Ohhh, shit, Jim. That's it." He couldn't stop the babbling. It was a part of who he was. And he'd always babbled during sex. This time, though, it seemed he had a second layer going on. Guide voice. That's what Simon had labeled it when Blair started talking and using his voice -- not always his words, but the tone, timbre, rhythm of his voice -- to accomplish something. This time, he mused fondly, the goal was simple. Get his Sentinel to fuck him. "C'mon, Jim, give me more. Move, man!" He snarled his frustration out, thrusting against Jim, trying to get him to take the hint.

"Something I gotta do first." Oh-kayyy. This was different, but he was running the show. "Hold on." He lowered himself over Blair with one hand, reaching down with the other into the dirt beside them to pull up a plant that grew right near the little hollow. Blair thought he recognized it as a plant some tribes used as paint. _Huh._ Jim was going to mark him. He could handle that.

Jim crushed the plant in his fingers, and a thick blue ooze drizzled on his hand. He closed his fist tighter, tucking his fingertips tightly in. Blair figured it was his way of getting the woad-clone onto the tips of his fingers. Sure enough, he released the crushed plant, dropping it on to the floor. Jim started tracing a pattern on Blair's body, beginning up at his face, and moving downward. The dye was warm with the touch of Jim's hand, but a thrumming heat remained after Jim moved on. He wasn't sure that was normal for the Terran variety, but here in the blue jungle, things could be very different. 'Star stuff', Naomi had once said when he mentioned seeing spirit guides.

He didn't recognize what he could see of the pattern, but that didn't mean anything. It wasn't something he'd know without a bunch of references. Instead, he closed his eyes, and just _felt_ Jim working his way down his body. He tried to still his natural responses; it was very difficult to stifle the shivers and shudders that wanted to escape as he was gently touched with such care and attention. He'd never gotten so much TLC at one time. This was like a declaration of love in 3D with the glasses. _Damn._ He relaxed, allowing Jim to complete whatever symbols or art he needed to on Blair's body. Finally, Jim's fingers stilled, and he felt the shift in attention.

"Now, Sandburg, what were you saying about moving?" He slid out partway, and slammed back in once. "Hmmm?" And again.

Blair groaned, and tried to match his thrusts, but his man kept varying his pace. It was brutal and sweet and powerful, and the runes -- or whatever they were hummed and thrummed with an ethereal power. "Can I -- ?" He gestured wildly to his cock.

"Knock yourself out, Chief." Jim snickered, and went back to his odd arrhythmic thrusting.

Blair grabbed his cock, spitting on his fingers to give himself some sort of lubrication, and began twisting and pulling. He tried to match Jim's thrusts, but instead settled for a frantic pace all his own. "Jim, come on." He knew the man was teasing him, or torturing him, or something similar. "The water's fine." He repeated his words from earlier, assuring his mate that he really did want this. Really did want whatever completion would bring -- both here and in the real world.

"Mmm." Jim began thrusting in a more regular cadence, although it was torturously slow. In -- beat. Out -- beat. In -- beat. Out -- beat. Blair groaned, and just settled in for a long night, realizing that Jim had his reasons for drawing this out so long.

He felt something build inside him. Not his orgasm, no. That was far away at this point. This was more like a 'warm fuzzy feeling', except it wasn't too 'fuzzy.' It was a sharp shock of pleasure that originated somewhere other than in his endocrine system. It build like a slow-starting fire, flickering a little, and then subsiding. It drew him in, much as watching campfires did when he was out on 'retreat' with Naomi. The flickers of the internal flame began to build, and deep within, something lit aflame. If he had to compare it to something, it was like that arson case. With the rocket fuel. The world exploded.

And he shattered.

* * *

 

Jim didn't know where the urges or knowledge was coming from at this point. He wasn't even that sure exactly what he was doing. He knew what steps he needed to take -- well, three or four steps ahead, anyway -- and executed them with precision. He'd always been good at following the protocols. Unless they were stupid. With his mind completely subsumed into this odd instinct, Jim didn't consider any of this to be 'stupid.' Instead, he followed the 'plan' with specificity and military precision. Every step was executed properly and in a timely manner. Soon, he was covering Blair in woad, painting symbols all over his skin, imbuing him with this fire from somewhere around him. After he completed the design, he began thrusting, hoping this would be the end of their ritual, and he could return to a normal -- well, normal for a Sentinel -- night's sleep.

However, when Blair started stroking himself, something changed inside his Guide. He could see this white fire forming, burning up everything inside. It didn't char like terrestrial fire would, nor did it act like a chemical agent, creating burns with no heat source. It engulfed him, seeming to reduce Blair Sandburg to component atoms and begin reforming him into something different. The flames licked up from where they burned and danced along Jim's skin. It was his choice to fall into this. He still had an out. But the clear understanding of the situation -- the same weird instinct that had brought them to this point -- told him that if he drew back, Blair would not leave this world again. He'd die outside, and Jim wouldn't be far behind. So, instead of pulling away, he lowered himself into the flames, allowing it to work its magic on him as well.

As he lowered himself into the flames, his senses all burned. The flames coruscated from white to a prismatic array of colors, shifting and sliding all over like the sun refracting through a dewdrop falling from a leaf. The the thrumming rhythm of Blair's heartbeat and his own began to gain pitch, melody and harmony, sliding up and down the scale. He smelled the jungle, but there was a clear, strong, sharp smell -- an odd admixture of scents both botanical and zoological, and some he couldn't even identify. The strange combination rolled around on his tongue, igniting each of the four sections with a vague randomness that added to his confusion. Where the different colored fires touched his skin, they burned, tickled, stung, caressed, froze, stabbed and prodded in turns, the sensations not matching specific colors that he could tell. Every nerve in his system seemed to be feeding its line a complete range of its sense, much like a small child pounding out a mildly dissonant tune on his grandmother's piano. The intensity seemed to increase, and his breaths shortened. He completely zoned out on the sensations, and with no Guide able to draw him back, he fell further and further in to the maelstrom.

Amidst it all, he was completely undone.


	4. Chapter 4

Blair awoke slowly, feeling somewhat -- off. He was sure he was rested, but when he opened his eyes, the lights were brighter, the scents more pungent. His gown felt heavy on his skin. It wasn't Sentinel-level, he didn't think, but it was definitely different than it had been. He gazed over at his lover and gave a quiet smile. _That was some night._ He couldn't wait until they could do that kind of thing with their bodies. _Well, minus whatever that explody thing was at the last._

 _That was a merge, Chief._ Blair heard Jim's voice, but didn't _hear_ Jim's voice. He felt his heart rate speed up a little, and watched as Jim opened his eyes and reached out his hand to calm him. _We merged, Blair. Heart, soul, mind and spirit. I'm sure it'll get even weirder when we actually merge bodily._

 _I. E. Sex._ Blair blushed as his mind spelled it out for him, clearly and -- by the grin on Jim's face -- audibly for Jim to hear.

 _Well, yeah. Sex. When we get home. Today._ He was certain Jim hadn't meant to add the last part. _This is gonna take some getting used to._ Or that, either.

They continued talking mind-to-mind for a while, the innuendo seeming to slip between them easily, unconsciously. To the observer, it would look like they were laying there, facing each other, heads propped up on their arms, grinning like fools, but staring into each other's eyes. Finally, after a while, Blair lay back down. "We probably should at least _attempt_ to have some parts of the conversations be verbal. At least for verisimilitude." _So it looks like we're having our normal conversations. After all, this is really not normal._ There was a slight spike of panic in his thoughts -- he knew it, but he couldn't keep it out, either.

 _I got that part, babe._ Jim's indulgent amusement spawned his own, but for different reasons. Jim was amused at Blair's mind already devising explanations for his words, and reasons behind them. Blair was amused and cheered by Jim's propensity for quick, accurate terms of endearment. "Yeah, you're probably right. Though -- Chief, this might sound crazy, but I think we have to let Simon in on it." _Safety / use for work / keep you safe / Sentinel stuff_ Blair had noticed there were several layers of thought, and realized that he was probably catching every layer. He'd been working to try to delineate each layer separately, but that was extremely difficult.

"You know that means telling him about the Jungle." Blair replied, reaching a hand over to have some sort of physical connection with Jim. Jim understood his need and felt similarly, reaching his hand over to clasp together. _And that means Naming / accepting / dealing with the crazy shit, Jim._ He shuddered. "I really do not look forward to this conversation. But you've got a good point. He'll really need to know. It will affect -- Damn. What about the regs?" _We're not supposed to be fraternizing, I don't think / that page, yeah / specific code / but they can't take you away from me, can they? Don't want to work with anyone else, Jim...._

 _Calm down, love._ Jim's projected thought calmed his panic considerably. _If they have a problem with it, we'll find something else to do / live off my inheritance / retirement / do something else / you can teach ..._ Blair heard his thoughts trail off. "Chief, they'll make allowances. After all, if we pushed, we could be legally considered to be one person. In a lot of states, married couples cannot be made to work against their spouses. This would take on a whole new level of that. I don't want to subject us to that kind of scrutiny, but maybe we could do this ..." He effortlessly switched to projecting. _... on the sly or something. Find some contact that could test us and get us some sort of special dispensation. The only drawback with that would be exposure / work for them / exploit you / not going to let it happen. No way._

Blair could see how they were good together. _Jim, calm down. I'm not going anywhere._ To prove that, he slid over closer, turning to kiss his man languidly, sighing with delight. _God, this is good. Hey! I can still talk to you while you're kissing me. That's kind of cool!_

 _Don't get carried away, Chief._ Jim's amusement filtered through, and Jim pulled away from Blair unwillingly. "Someone's coming. Hopefully it's the doctor, so we can get home quickly." His eyes sparkled with amusement and lust. Blair could tell the different layers of emotion, too, if he looked for them.

"Here's hoping, man." He grinned, and slipped his hand out of Jim's, settling it neatly back-to-back against it, attempting to make it look casual.

The door opened, and Simon stepped in. "Good morning, you two. How are you feeling?" He looked between the two of them, and frowned. "Are you guys okay?"

Blair snickered, and let his thoughts run free, considering all the possible answers he could give to that. He grinned, and turned to watch Jim's expression.

 _Stop it, Sandburg._ Jim's laugh echoed through their minds, and he struggled mightily to prevent it escaping. He did grin, though. "We're just fine, Simon. Eager to get out of this room, but you know that." In revenge, Jim let his own sarcastic nature loose, and went through his own list of snappy comebacks.

Blair had less control than Jim did, and started laughing. _You're seriously evil, man._ He shook his head. "Sorry, Simon. It's just been a long couple of days."

 _You are such a bullshitter, Sandburg. Are you always this free with the truth?_ Jim's quick thought carried no annoyance, just amusement and care.

"Alright, you two. Something's up. You've got to tell me what's going on." Simon told them sternly. Naturally, this set them both off.

"Sorry, Captain. I agree with you, but we'll have to explain later. Not here." Jim gestured to the door. "And -- "

"You're not going to like it." Blair interrupted him, saying pretty much the same thing Jim would have said. He just felt this need to be the one to speak the bad news. "You're really not going to like it. But it does have a positive side. We're not sure yet -- " He broke off, uncertain how to word the rest of what he wanted to say. He sent it bluntly to Jim. _How do you tell Simon that you think it'll be helpful / good / positive / necessary / appropriate for the department, but that it's like something off X-Files?_

 _Pretty much like that. We're going to have to talk about you taking the words out of my mouth. Literally, here, Sandburg. I get why you're doing it, but damn._ Jim frowned slightly, and Blair wondered if Simon was worried about them. _Always, Chief. He's always worried about us. When we get into something, his heart rate skyrockets. That gruff grumbling he does is just a bad cover._ Blair nodded, and looked over at the painting on the wall, letting Jim tell Simon this part. "There's been a development in the Sentinel thing, Simon. We're still working it out, but we think it'll make it even easier to do our jobs. But it's going to take some serious discussions and perhaps some -- legal finesse. Like I said, I don't want to talk about it here, but it's big."

"Shit. You guys are going to give me gray hairs before I'm fifty, Ellison." Simon patted his pocket, and pulled out a cigar. He stuck it into his mouth, and sat down in the chair hard, sighing. "You're in no danger, though?"

"Not that we're aware of yet, no, sir." Blair looked over at him, and shifted his hand against Jim's, stroking the backs of their hands together. _Well, we need to be honest with him, and we're / I'm anyway / not sure about the safety of this thing. You're not going to drive me nuts, are you, Jim?_

 _Only in bed, Chief. Only in bed._ That smug look was back, and Jim wiped it off his face quickly before shifting up to sit up. "The kid's right, Simon. We're in completely unknown territory here. Again. I don't think even Burton had anything about this." _Did he?_

 _Stop that, Jim!_ Blair knew he was blushing deeply. He couldn't pull off that stoic, military-trained nonchalance that Jim had. He envied him for it. "Not that I'm aware of. I mean, he might have had something in some other piece, or something we're not interpreting right. I'll have to go back and read it again, and see if there are any signs. Plus, he was an observer. It could have been happening and he not know about it, because it's not -- it's not something you'd bring up in polite conversation." _Can you imagine, Jim? 'Hey, I'm mentally connected and sexually active with my Guide, and it's amazingly mind-blowingly awesome, man! I thought you oughtta know.'_ It wasn't until after he'd had the thought that he realized it might not be the wisest thing to say with company around.

It wasn't. Jim couldn't hold it back. He started laughing. _Oh, God, Sandburg. Now you've done it. But you're right._ Blair went through the layers, and felt amusement, slight embarrassment, lust, appreciation for the reciprocal joke, and real -- what was that? Real affection. "Blair ..." Jim turned to him, as though he could feel him peeling back the onion of his emotions.

"What?" He wasn't sure if the comment was going to be about him nosing around, or something else.

"How can you be surprised?" Oops. Blair bet that was supposed to be thought, not spoken. _Dammit._ Yeah. _Okay, you were right. Get over it. How in the hell can you be surprised that I have affection for / care / love / need you? Did I not make it obvious last night?_

Blair closed his eyes, and turned away, completely forgetting about Simon being in the room. "It goes so deep. And it's been there a while. I mean, it's changed, yeah, but it's ..." _Shit._ Now he was the one speaking when he ought to be thinking.

"What is going on, Jim?" Simon couldn't miss it. Or if he could, he was a horrible detective. That got an amused snort from Jim, but softly.

"Sorry, Simon. We'll explain it to you. We promise. It's just -- like we said, we're working the kinks out." _But how can you be surprised?_ Like a dog with a bone.

 _It's real. It's not transitory. It stays._ That was the heart of it right there. He made sure to project this, instead of speaking it. It took effort. _I'll have to let you wander through my memories soon, Jim. It's not a pretty walk, though. We -- moved. Like a lot. And ..._ He paused, considering how to word it.

 _Just spit it out, Chief._ Now Jim was the one running his hand along Blair's. Just a touch, but it was enough. A reassurance.

"Well, you've met Naomi." He supposed it didn't matter whether he said that part out loud.

"Yeah. I have." _I hear you, Blair._ Blair heard the intentional wording, and smiled.

"Okay, you guys are starting to scare me. I'm going to find the doctor and get him to release you so that we can have this conversation. Don't go anywhere." Simon stood up again, and moved to the door.

"Alright, Simon. We'll stay put." Jim grinned, waiting until he stepped through to shift closer again. "C'mere, you idiot." He shook his head, and Blair snickered at the fond amusement.

He leaned over, knowing exactly what Jim wanted to do. Jim's hand threaded through Blair's hair and leaned in, kissing him lightly. "Don't doubt me, Chief. It may take me a while to get there, but once I get there, I'm sold." He smiled a genuine, deeply affectionate smile, and Blair's breath caught.

"I don't doubt _you_ , Jim. I just haven't had a lot of opportunity to have a long-term relationship like this. I mean, I can tell you're the real thing, man." He snickered. _That sounds so cheesy. But it's true._ He shrugged. _And this bond that links us is probably unbreakable. Now anyway. Probably even more so when we add the physical._

"I know it is." Jim continued to run his hands through Blair's hair, comforting and quieting him.

 _Isn't that my job?_ Blair teased, looking up at Jim. "Man. How'd we get so -- comfortable with this so fast? If I'd have bet, I'd have bet at least one of us going all neurotic on the other. Though, I can't guarantee I won't sometime in the future."

"Well, I'm learning to trust my instincts. At least the Sentinel ones. And they're screaming at me to keep you close. Safe. Protected." The hand running through his hair slid down to the shoulder nearest Jim and squeezed, before returning to fiddling with the curls.

"But you do that anyway, don't you?" Blair frowned.

"Yeah, but it's a matter of scale, Romeo." He snorted. "Like the dials. Before, it was set at two. Now, it can go from ten to twenty, depending on the situation. And that's without exposing you to danger yet. That's gonna be hard. My instincts are gonna be even more pushy." Worry bled from his thoughts, and Blair winced at its intensity. _I don't want to hold you back or prevent you from working, but I **have** to keep you out of danger. So, it's gonna be a fight between those two things. You already almost give me an ulcer, Hero._

Blair snickered. "Not my intent, man. Not my intent." He leaned in slowly, letting the hand on his head move with him, and stole another kiss.

Jim pulled back, and sighed. "Not that I don't like that, babe, but they're coming." He ran his hands through Blair's hair for a little longer, and then reluctantly moved the hand back to that thin strip of space between them. Blair immediately laid his hand as close as he could get it and still look casual. He was pretty sure they wouldn't fool too many people for too long, but for now, it was enough.

* * *

 

Jim had spoken honestly. He wasn't sure he _could_ lie to Sandburg now. And he couldn't lie either. _That'll be interesting._

 _Shut up, Jim._ Jim could hear Blair's amusement, but also a slight panic. He mentally sent a reassurance to him.

 _It's okay, Blair. We'll figure it out._ They both endured the pushing and prodding of the doctor, and passed comments between them. It made the whole thing less annoying, Jim thought.

"Alright you two." Simon spoke when they had been cleared to dress. "I'm going to take you home, since neither of you is fit to drive, and your vehicles aren't here. Then, we're going to sit down and have a long talk about whatever -- " He gestured between them. "Whatever this _thing_ is that you're not telling me. Because I may be stuck in a desk, but I was a detective for a good many years, and somethin' doesn't smell right."

This made Blair snicker, and Jim 'looked' to see what was so funny to his partner. _Something's rotten in Denmark._ It was probably just Blair being tired, but it did strike him as funny as well. His own soft chuckle escaped.

"What? Something I said?" Simon stared at them over his glasses, daring them to keep laughing.

"No, sir." Jim replied quickly, almost automatically. Programmed response. He knew it. "It was nothing, sir."

"Alright, then, let's get this show on the road. You two get changed, and I'll wait right outside. Don't take too long." Simon stalked out of the room, leaving Blair and Jim sitting on their beds.

 _No wild monkey sex, then, I guess._ A deep tendril of thought swirled up and crossed the line between them.

 _Sandburg! The longer we take to do this, the longer it'll take to **get to** the 'wild monkey sex.' I want it just as much as you do, Stud._ He snorted, waiting until he heard Simon's steps walk back over to the small waiting alcove. _C'mere. We don't have a lot of time, but we do have a minute or two._ He didn't wait for Blair to respond, pulling him into an embrace. He lowered his lips to the shorter man's, kissing him hungrily for a few moments before letting him go again. "Now, then. Clothes, Chief."

"Slave driver." Blair snickered, but got dressed in his old dirty clothes. _Be glad to get clean again. One benefit of living with a Sentinel. Clean means clean._

 _Dammed right it does._ Jim wasn't sure if Blair wanted a reply, but he was feeling mischievous. He put his own blood-stained, smelly clothes on, and swung his legs down to put them back into his shoes. _C'mon, Speedy Gonzales, let's get outta here, and get back home._ Home. It wasn't just the Loft now. It was his bed, with Blair in it.

"Stop it, Jim." Jim looked up, a little surprised at the vehemence in Blair's voice. "You _can't_ think about that now. I'm serious." He gazed up at Jim, and the look in his eyes increased Jim's understanding.

 _Right. Sorry, babe._ Jim finished tying up his shoe, and sighed. "Let's just do this." He straightened up slowly, and moved toward the door. "They're probably going to insist on putting me into a wheelchair. If you can, I'd like you to push it." He turned to look back at Blair _Keep a little close, at least. Then, if it gets too bad, you can reach your hand down and straighten something, or something._ He was getting flashes of understanding again. _We're gonna have to be close for a long while yet. If not physically, then in the Jungle. Something's got to touch. Maybe Prowler and Howler could substitute in a pinch?_ The mentioned animals traipsed behind them, the jaguar striding more slowly, showing his exhaustion and pain. "We'll get you home, Prowler." He strode slowly to the door.

"I could understand that, Jim." Blair blinked stopping short, Howler nudging his knees to try to keep them together. "I mean, I heard the Quechua, and then I heard the translation." He grinned. "This is awesome." _Gotta consider sensory input through the secondary source. Tests...._ Blair's mind became this wild, windy tornado of thought, grabbing bits and pieces from all these separate shelves.

Jim held up a hand. "Don't _do_ that right now, Sandburg. You're gonna give me a headache. Let me get seated in the chair first. Then, you can go crazy. And no tests until we get this thing solidified and settled. Then we'll talk about it." He snorted. It'd be easier to know what the man expected now.

"Yeah, I guess." Blair let Howler push him back toward himself and Prowler. Jim nodded. He wondered how much of his discomfort was bleeding through. _A lot, actually, Jim. I can feel you're hurting, and when I get ... creative, it makes your ordered mind wobble a little. I hope that's not going to be a problem, hon._ It was the first time he'd attempted a 'sweet' endearment. Jim liked it.

 _I don't know. That may change with the complete bond, or it may not. We'll have to see._ Jim shrugged, and moved to the hall where they had an orderly waiting with a wheelchair. "Thank you, -- " He looked up to catch the name on the tag. "Thank you, Carlos. My friend can push me. He isn't as injured as I am. We'll leave the chair inside the lobby there, and someone can return it to you. Will that work?"

Carlos looked at Jim incredulously for a moment, and then looked appraisingly at Blair. "You're sure? That'd be a big help if you can do it." He frowned, trying to decide.

"Yeah, man. I'll be fine." Blair smiled his bright 'shit-is-gold' smile, and moved to take the handles of the wheelchair. He immediately moved a hand to settle something. Oh. Jim's collar. Right. That'd work. The touch wasn't quite enough, but it did help.

 _Shit is gold, Jim?_ Blair snickered. _I"m not **that** bad, am I?_ He pushed them out toward Simon and the car.

 

* * *

 

The car ride home was fairly uneventful. Simon just looked at them oddly when they said it'd be better if they both rode in the backseat, but took it on faith, and helped them get in. When they got settled and strapped in, Blair unashamedly grasped Jim's hand across the seat, scooting to the furthest reach of the seat belt. He snorted. _Should we start explaining now, or should we wait until we get home?_

 _Home._ Jim's response was near immediate. _I don't want him crashing when we tell him this._ That caused Jim to snort. Prowler and Howler were curled up in a small ball of fur between them, Howler closer to Jim, and Prowler on his side.

Blair reached his hand across his body to stroke the jaguar, watching Jim's expression as he did. _How much are they us, and how much are they ... something else, Jim? I'm never sure._

 _Me either, Sandburg. I think they might be our -- our best selves. The ones most in touch with the Jungle and whatever it represents._ Jim stroked Howler, hitching his hand underneath the wolf's chin. Blair felt it as a warm wash of sensation, starting at the point of his chin and working downward. It felt good. _Listen to me. You've got me spouting mumbo-jumbo, Chief._

 _It's not mumbo-jumbo._ Blair grinned. He ran his thumb along Jim's forefinger. _It's a proven fact that --_

"Hey, do you two need to stop anywhere? Food or anything?" Simon unknowingly broke into their conversation.

"What do you think, Jim? Do we have enough supplies? Maybe we could have Megan come over and take us in a day or so. Simon's got enough to do... We should have enough for at least that long, right?" Blair frowned, looking over at Jim. _I don't know how long it's going to take to settle this. Like ... well, like a honeymoon, or bringing a new baby home. You need time to get used to it. **We** need time to get used to it._

 _Yeah, Chief. That makes sense. I'm just trying to remember whether the food we do have is still good, or if it's gone bad by now. We've been gone, what, four days?_ He sounded genuinely confused, and Blair worried. That wasn't like him. Maybe this was too much. _No, I'm good. I need to be home with you. We can figure out the rest._ "Maybe stop and pick something up for supper. Then, we can talk over food, and figure the rest out after that. It'll help if you know what's going on." It seemed like a sensible solution.

Blair nodded his agreement, and Simon grunted. "What do you want to eat?" Their boss started scanning for food places.

"I'm not sure." Blair frowned. _Did you notice anything weird when we ate today?_ "Whatever's close, man. We'll make do with junk tonight. I'll get him back on the good stuff later." He grinned.

 _Weird like what? Weird like that hospital food always tastes like shit? It's supposed to be bland, which is nice for me, but it tastes like cardboard and plastic got all melted into the meal. If they didn't make us eat it, I'd puke the damn stuff right back up._

 _Whoa, Jim._ Blair looked down to hide his smile, and hopefully contain his laugh. Just a little longer. _Didn't know you felt that strongly about it._

 _It's like drinking out of those plastic water bottles after they've sat in the sun too long. You know how Naomi was harping at us about that?_ It was true. His mother had nearly gone apeshit at the sight of Jim drinking from a jug in the car. Never mind that it was brand new.

 _Yeah, true. Naomi can get pretty intense._ Blair stifled a laugh. _No, what I was wondering was, was there an overflow. Like when I was drinking that coffee, did you taste it? That sort of thing. I just wonder if we should eat the same meal to be sure, you know? Just in case there's complications. But it does narrow down our choices quite a bit. Something quick, you can eat, and I like well enough..._ Blair could eat about anything, but he'd started having trouble with a few more common things. Something about age and stress. He thought it might be a genetic thing, but it wasn't something Naomi dealt with. _Just another hint to the mystery of my paternity._ He realized that probably passed through the very thin barrier between them, and it sounded very bitter. He was still very bitter about not knowing. It didn't seem fair.

 _Babe, don't stress over it. I didn't know how you felt about it, but I'm going to. About this and every other issue we face. And you'll know about how I feel about Grace and William. And Steve._ Blair nodded quickly. It was true. He felt the frustration and hurt as he mentioned his family's names. _Chicken nuggets from Wonderburger?_

 _Yeah, that'll do in a pinch. Maybe a salad. I think I have some of that dressing we both liked still in the fridge._ With that, the plans were finalized and carried out. Now, they just had the difficult job of telling Simon.


	5. Chapter 5

They stopped at the nearby Wonderburger and turned back on to Prospect. Jim leaned back in his seat, trying to think of something to talk to Simon about, or how in the world he was going to tell Simon about this. He reached over to grab Blair's hand again, running his palm over Howler as he did. The spirit animals were a comfort to them: a kind of a stopgap between the Jungle where they began and here where they couldn't be close enough quite yet. Prowler nuzzled Blair, and Blair chuckled.

"He's feisty, Jim." Blair spoke softly, but it was audible, at least to him. If Simon heard, he was dutifully ignoring it. Simon pulled into the parking lot and turned off the car.

"Okay, gentlemen, let's get you up those stairs and at least on the couch." Simon moved around to help Jim. "Sandburg, can you get the door unlocked?"

"Yeah, man, got it covered. You just help Jim up." Blair turned to give Jim a long look. _Don't like him touching you right now, man. I'm going to need to wash you._ Ahh. Here came Blair's ritual. He had known it was going to be soon.

 _Alright. We can do that. Let's just get this done first, and then we'll deal. Okay, babe?_ He liked that endearment. It seemed to fit. Carolyn had always been "sweetheart", or when he was frustrated, "yes, dear." He let Simon help him up to the elevator and leaned against the wall. Blair had his arms full of their supper. Simon could get the rest from the car before he left.

"Alright." The elevator stopped, and they walked down the hall toward the room. "Sandburg, do your stuff." Simon snorted, and Jim chuckled a bit as well.

"Alright, man. There you go." Blair deftly unlocked the door and they all entered. "Jim, you sit on the couch, and I'll sit down beside you. You don't mind grabbing the chair, do you Simon?"

"Wherever you want me, Sandburg. This is your show." He gestured between the two of them, indicating he meant the two of them.

"Right." Jim got settled down on to the couch and glanced over to Blair before just exhaling an exasperated sigh and grabbing his hand. "They're curled up together, Chief --" He nodded over to where their totems were snuggling in the corner. "It's not enough. I think after we finish, it might be. But we'll have to see." Simon looked more confused, and was starting to appear more frustrated. "Ok. It's like this. You remember in Peru, when we rescued you and Daryl?"

"Yeah, of course. What's that got to do with this?"

"Well, my senses went all haywire. But I was able to track you by following a panther... well, I thought it was a panther... it was a jaguar..." Prowler lifted his head and gave a feral smile. "Yes, yes, yes. You were pretty smug about the misidentification." He turned to the other two men, and was met with an amused grin from his lover and a confused glare from his boss.

 _You were yammering in Quechua again, hon._ Blair grinned. "That's the language of the Quechua Indians, Simon. Jim always talks to Prowler in that language. I think it's because he likes the way his name translates."

"Shut up, Sandburg, and let me tell the story. You're confusing Simon." Jim stroked his hand over Blair's, drawing comfort and strength from the action.

"I'm not the one changing languages mid-sentence to talk to my spirit guide, big guy." Blair laughed.

"Spirit Guide?" Simon paused in the act of lifting his burger to his mouth. "Like Indian mystic stuff?"

"Exactly." Blair inhaled, and Jim could see all the paths forming in his brain, the tornado about to strike. He shook his head.

"Not yet, Sandburg. Still not stable enough. You start that tornado now, and you'll knock me out."

"Oh, right. Sorry. Go on, then." Blair leaned forward slowly and grabbed a container of nuggets and sat them in Jim's lap, then grabbed the other one.

"Yeah. Spirit guides. I followed Prowler -- that's mine. He's a black jaguar -- through the jungle, and he led me to you. It was a good thing, though, because I wouldn't have been able to find you. "

"Right. " Simon looked like he was trying to understand. "How does this relate to this stuff?" He had obviously noticed their hands together.

"Well, not only did we meet our spirit guides -- Blair's is a wolf I called Howler. Little dark gray furball. Gets hair everywhere." Jim looked over in the corner and then turned to give Blair a shit-eating grin.

"Hey!" Blair interrupted him. "Not any more than Prowler does!"

"Anyway, we found this -- this space. Sort of a spirit world. For us, it's always a jungle. Maybe because we first found out about it when we were in Peru. Maybe because that's where the Temple of the Sentinels is. Maybe it's because our animals are native to there. Who the hell knows? We're not sure. But it gives us a point of reference." He paused, lowered his free hand to snatch a nugget, and took a bite as he considered how to go on. "When Barnes killed Blair, I saw him in the Jungle. I saw him in that blue world. I did something there... I sent Prowler _through_ Howler, in such a way as to give him some of my strength. I connected with him. Started something."

"Right -- " Simon looked a little unnerved at all this stuff coming from Jim's mouth instead of Blair's. But he seemed to be bearing it well.

"So, when I got shot the other day, Blair did the same thing. He sent his wolf running through my panther, giving me strength." Jim took another bite, and set the nugget down. He wasn't especially hungry quite yet, and this was more important. "Because we did the same thing to each other, and because it was in that spirit world, our -- our spirits merged." He pursed his lips. "Look. I know how hokey this sounds. If I wasn't in the middle of it, I'd have written it off entirely." He tried to find an example.

"Whoa, Jim. I see what you mean. It's like filing cabinets and you're looking up the microfiche. That is _so_ cool, man."

"Whaddya know, Sandburg, even my _mind_ is clean." Jim drawled dryly.

 _Not always, Big Guy._ Blair's retort was immediate, though it caused him to flush red.

"Oh, god. Stop." Jim shook his head, giving up all pretense of hiding from his boss. "Okay. It's like this. If I save your life, you feel like you ought to pay me back, or watch over me, or at the very least, take me out to dinner and let me get drunk on your dime, right?"

"Yeah. That's just polite." Simon nodded, grabbing a french fry.

"Well, actually, it's more than just simple manners, sir. It's an ingrained need." Blair wanted to say more. Jim knew this. But he was restraining himself for Jim's sake.

 _Damn. You really **do** love me._ He smiled. "Right. And if two weeks later, you save my life, a partnership forms. No matter if you actually hate the other guy's guts, you know at least in one thing, you can trust this guy. Or you know that he saved your ass and you saved his. There's a common experience. And it's usually a pretty life-changing one, as well." Jim shrugged. "Look. You see this all the time with new partners on the force. They start off rubbing each other the wrong way, arguing about procedure, driving, perps, interrogations, -- all that stuff. But after a few weeks on the job, they settle down. It's not because they've agreed on everything, or that they consciously figured out a rhythm. Most of the time it's because they've saved each other's asses at least once and realize this guy's on the same page. The rest is gravy."

"Alright, that makes sense, Ellison. So, what's the problem? You saved each other's lives, and connected. Connected how?" Simon held up a fry like a pointer.

"Whisper something in my ear, Simon. Anything. I'd suggest the other way around, but you'd say I heard it with my hearing. This way, normal boy over there won't hear what you whisper in my ear." Simon looked reluctant. "Just try it. I have a point to prove. I promise."

"Alright." The big man hefted himself from his chair and moved over to Jim's ear. He whispered very softly, barely even breathing "Rubber baby buggy bumpers."

 _Did you hear that, or do you need me to tell you?_ Jim cocked his head slightly.

 _I heard. Not with my ears, though._ "Rubber baby buggy bumpers."

"What the _hell_ , Jim? Is he a Sentinel too?" Simon moved back over, and grabbed his pop, taking a long drink.

"No, Simon. When he saved me, he got stuck in the Jungle. To do that, I had to -- connect with him here. I think there were several ways I could have done it, but the easiest, least painful -- at least physically painful -- way is to kiss. Because of that, and because of -- well, just fate being a bitch and wanting to make things as difficult as possible, we've connected in almost every way. If you really want us to break it down, we will." Simon was shaking his head vehemently. "I didn't think so. The bottom line is this: we are connected mentally, spiritually, emotionally and soon will be physically. When that happens, we're not sure what all will be possible. We can't be separate right now for more than a few minutes. We can't have another person touching us. The doctor touching us to check us out was almost painful, both physically and emotionally. When you brought me up here, Blair reacted badly. We're hoping that part might settle. If not, police work is going to be interesting." He gave a wry smile. "We have four layers of that reciprocal relationship going on, as I understand it. We're Sentinel and Guide, friends, partners, roommates -- yeah, that does influence it. Think about the people you've lived with. You have to figure stuff out pretty quickly, or the whole place is ..."

Blair piped in. "It's not home."

"Exactly. Then, on top of that, we throw this new -- emotional wrinkle -- and this connection in the spirit realm... " He paused, and looked over in the corner. "Hey, Chief, you think they'd come out to see Simon?"

"Or let Simon see them, anyway?" Blair nodded. "Maybe. You ask Prowler. He seems to be -- " _He's alpha, Jim. You know that._

"Right." He switched over to Quechua without thinking much about it. "How about it, Fuzzball? Would it be okay if Simon saw you? He wouldn't have to see you all the time. Just in emergencies, and now, you know. For a meet-n-greet." He grinned, and Prowler matched it with an answering grin.

"Haha, look at him. He's so smug." Blair laughed, and Howler panted his amusement. "I think they'll do it, Jim."

"Simon, remember they are spirit animals. That doesn't mean they couldn't hurt you, but honestly, they're kind of spiritual representations of our souls. Of our best selves." Jim gave a soft whistle, calling Prowler over. Like his human, Prowler stalked with military precision and a feline grace.

"Damn!" Simon nearly dropped his burger. "You ain't kiddin'. And yours, Sandburg?"

"Howler, c'mere, puppy. C'mere, boy." Jim had to laugh at Blair's call. Howler was _not_ a puppy. Yet, he was in some ways. Howler came bounding over, nuzzling his nose into Blair's chest while Blair stroked his fur. "Alright. Go see Jim, Howler." The two animals switched places, Jim holding the wolf in his lap, and Prowler curled around Blair's feet."

"Aww, Sandburg, he's kinda cute. You can tell he's yours, though. He's got uncontrollable fur." Simon's great big laugh boomed out. "So, do you see these guys all the time?"

"Shut up, Simon." Blair muttered, and took another chicken nugget, then answered the question. "Lately, yeah. At first, no. At first, we only saw them when we were near death or Jim's senses went wacky or -- " Blair stopped, listening to himself. "So, like twice a week?" He asked his question in a teasing tone. "No, really. Only a few times here and there over the years. But now, now, we see them almost constantly. And if we don't, they come when we call. They've been really effective at surveillance. We don't use anything they find out until we can corroborate it, of course, but it's nice to have something to go on. Especially when we run into things Jim can't do. Which, yes, despite popular opinion, they do exist."

"Thanks, you." Jim had to bite his tongue and change his language. He almost answered with the endearment. "So, you can see that this presents us with some interesting new possibilities, but it also presents challenges. I cannot really be partnered with anyone but Blair, but we pretty much have to be exempted from the fraternization regulations. When he gets into some sort of danger, even just perceived danger, I need to be able to assure myself he's safe. In every way." He wasn't going to elaborate on that, but it was pretty clearly spelled out. In cop-speak, at least.

"And he gets into danger three times before breakfast on a slow day. Yeah. I understand. Dammit, Jim. I don't know how I'm going to present this to the Chief. If he asks, I"ll have to direct him to you. I know he knows about the Sentinel thing, so maybe you can just say it's changing and that it's part of that. It'll sound like an excuse, but -- especially if he has some sort of proof, I think he'll be alright with it."

"Okay. Because, Simon, I will say this. This is a matter of life and death now. If we're separated or disconnected from each other for too long, I'm pretty sure that's it. I'm pretty sure that will kill us both. I understand that perps and idiots will separate us, but I'm hoping with the connection we have, we'll be able to make it brief. If it isn't, if it doesn't settle down, if we can't operate that way, we'll have to figure out how to do this outside the Force. I am not endangering Blair any more than I have to. I want to be a cop. I love being a cop. Blair likes being a cop. Not as much as I do, but he is really good at it. You know that. But this comes first, Simon. I want that clear from the get-go."

Blair sat there staring at him, tears running down his cheeks. "Jim?"

"Hmm?" Jim turned to look at him. "Oh, damn, babe. I'm sorry." _Are you gonna be okay? What's wrong? Did I say something wrong? What is it?_

 _Nobody's -- well, maybe -- but it's not very often people stand up for me like that. And I know, because I'm seeing it, hearing it, believing it, that you mean it. You're not just saying that because I'm good at helping you with the senses stuff. You really --_

"Yeah, I really." He felt the need to say that part out loud.

"This really is weird watching from the outside, you two." Simon said, somewhat grumpily. "But it's pretty obvious you're communicating without talking. Which is like X-Files or something here."

Blair laughed. "I _told_ you, Jim. I _told_ you." He shook his head, and moved over, now that Simon understood. It was alright.

Jim disengaged his hand from Blair's and stuck it out on the back of the couch, welcoming his lover into his arms. "Yeah, yeah yeah. You told me." He chuckled, and exhaled in relief at having him close at hand.

 

* * *

 

Simon sat there listening to his best detective team, fry dangling from his fingers. "You know, if anybody ever hears about this and you're not able to prove it to their satisfaction, you'll both be committed and drugged to the gills." He intended it to be a joke, but when he looked over to Jim and Blair, he regretted saying it.

"Yeah. We're well aware of that. But if they did that -- I think we'd -- " Jim stroked the wolf, still draped across his lap. Un-fucking-believable.

"Shoot us first, Simon." This came from Blair. Both Simon and Jim looked over at him. "No. I'm serious. If we're separated or if we're drugged or forcibly disconnected in any way, I think we'd make Alex look like a Girl Scout. I'm dead serious."

"He's got a point, Captain." Jim nodded. Simon couldn't believe this. He didn't want this responsibility. "Like I said, Simon, this thing is for real. I think it's going to be a very good thing, but we have _got_ to make sure it doesn't go bad." He gave his partner a sappy, doe-eyed grin.

 _Damn. They do need some time off, don't they? They go in like that, and nobody will take them seriously._ Simon munched on his fry, barely tasting it. "Alright." He held up his hand. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made a joke of it. But I don't want that responsibility, Jim. I don't want to be the one to have to shoot you."

Jim winced. "Yeah, Simon. I know." And Simon saw something pass between them, some conversation or something, because Jim nodded his head slightly, and stroked Blair's hand with his own. And that Jaguar started nuzzling the feet he was sitting on.

"What's he doing?" He motioned to the big cat.

"He's trying to lick me." Sandburg piped up, a hitch in his voice. "Tickles." Simon quirked his brow in a way that his detectives usually thought was intimidating, and Sandburg just grinned through it.

"Well, I think I'll leave you two lovebirds to it, and -- " _Poor choice of words, Simon._ They both started blushing like new brides. _Shit._ "You know what I mean. Call me when you figure out what you need. I'll back you as much as I can, but I'm not sure how much I can do." Especially before everything is clear.

"Thanks, Simon." Jim started to stick out his hand, and Howler growled. "Sorry." He looked sheepishly up at his boss. "Thank you." He repeated, and Simon snorted.

"Just get all this straightened out, and it'll be good." He turned, still shaking his head, and walked out the door, heading to the elevator. When he got far enough away from the apartment, he pulled out a cigar, bit the end, and lit it. _Fuckin' crazy._ He headed home.

* * *

 

"Ok, Jim, he's gone. I _have_ to wash you, and then, ... will you let me fuck you? I'm not sure if you'd let me, but I'd really like to and -- " He was already shucking his clothes, heading toward the bathroom, trying not to get too worked up -- for fear of hurting Jim, but having severe difficulties. He was stopped in his tracks by a pair of strong arms wrapping around his now-bare torso.

"Calm down, Chief. Let's get cleaned, and then, yeah. I think I could probably let you fuck me. If you'll let me do the same to you next time." Jim whispered into his ear, making his cock jump straight to attention. But he needed cleaned first.

Blair swallowed hard, turning sharply in Jim's arms to kiss his lover. _Damn straight I will. When I've been -- when I've been in these kinds of situations -- the two times --_ Shit. He wasn't going to tell him about those. But having their minds linked changes a few things. _Yeah. Those two times. I was usually catching._ He leaned in to deepen the kiss. _Okay. I'm going to have to get you clean quickly, because your ass is mine, Ellison._

 _Sir, yes sir!_ Blair can almost see the little mental salute that accompanies his insouciant response. _C'mon, Romeo. Let's get this party started. Can I undress myself, or do you want the honors?_

Blair turned, prized himself from Jim's arms, and thought about it on the way to the bathroom. He finished undressing himself, and sat down on the edge of the tub to start the water for their shower. _Let me undress you, please._ Jim was right. There was a list. For him, it was like a list of things that needed to be done. Not the demand of order and precision, but a teacher's checklist. Objectives to get taught to the students. Requirements to be met in the setting. First: Get Jim Ellison clean. Second: Get Jim Ellison dry. Third: Stick your cock up his ass, and fuck him. Something like that. The specifics belonged to him. _Are you okay? Will you be able to stand in the shower? Because we do have that seat thing I could grab. It makes us look like old people, but better to look like an old person than to fall on your ass. Because I do have plans for that ass._ His tone turned teasing.

He could feel Jim do a self-assessment. _I should be alright for a short period of time, Blair. I'll let you know if I start to get unsure of myself._ He held his arms out like a mannequin. His mental message was a sound more like a "Tada" sound than anything else.

Blair chuckled, and adjusted the water before moving over to his body. "Mmm. You're so hot, Jim. I know I mentioned that before, but you know, it really hits home like this." He reached up and started to unbutton the shirt, then grinned at the view as he disrobed. "Oh, Jim." He inhaled slowly, realizing he'd have to take at least a little time to do this properly.

Blair felt Jim's mild embarrassment and his amusement. _Chief, you're full of bologna. I'm ..._ Blair cut him off mid thought, reaching up to grab his head gently.

 _Hush, Jim. You are something else._ He tried to send the emotions that he felt just looking at the man. Arousal, sure. More than that, though. A care that had developed from years of friendship. The protective instincts he'd grown after following Jim around, watching his back, helping him do his job. The casual comfort of living together in the same space, sharing food, bills, annoyances and amusements. _I don't know how much of that you can feel, Ellison. But it's there. That's what I feel. And it's only getting deeper and more intense. Now. Let me undress you._ He put actions to -- thoughts, and started unbuckling his belt. He eased his finger inside the hem of the pants, moving slowly so he wouldn't hurt his lover any more than he absolutely had to. He knew Jim was still in pain -- could feel it even, like the sound of a saw at the back of his head -- and didn't want to make anything worse. As he worked at the button, he looked up to Jim's face, certain his eyes expressed his heart.

 _Yeah, they do._ Jim nodded, allowing the pants to drop to the floor. Blair gently stuck his fingers into the band of the underwear, moving them slowly down over Jim's engorged cock.

He wolf-whistled. _Nice, man._ He closed his eyes for a moment to stave off the sheer lust, and allowed the briefs to drop. He tested the water again, then guided Jim over to the water. "That feel good, or do I need to change it any?"

Jim tested it, tilting his head like his totem. "Feels fine to me. Might need a bit of adjustment once we're under the spray, though." He shrugged, or started to, and the loud sawing in Blair's brain got a little louder, then receded.

"Be careful, Jim. I know that hurt." He snorted, and stepped into the bathtub, making room for Jim. Jim followed him in, then pulled the curtain closed.

"How?" Jim stepped into the spray, and sighed. Blair felt the buzzing lessen considerably. "How do you know it hurt?"

"It's like a buzzing in the back of my brain. Here." He ran a nail along his cheek roughly, just enough to hurt.

Jim's reaction was unexpected. He jumped, tensed, and looked around. _Perimeter alarm. Danger. Where?_ His mind ran through scenarios quickly, efficiently, branching out from one to the next like a spiderweb of 'THREAT."

"Calm down, Jim. That was me inflicting a little pain on myself. Just enough for you to see." Blair spoke aloud, even interjecting Guide voice. He watched and felt the effect it had on him. "Now. I'd _like_ to inflict something other than pain on the both of us." He grinned lasciviously, and started to soap off Jim's skin.

"Hahaha, Chief. Such a comedian. Don't do that again. Seriously. I almost went -- " _I almost went apeshit._ He blushed when he realized his thought went straight across to his lover.

"Yeah. I caught that. It's why I calmed you down." _Something else we'll need to deal with / Damn, he/you look fetching when he/you blush._ He felt his own face heat up, and shook his head. "We're just gonna have to get used to this, Jim. Seriously. But -- " _But what a process._ He shuddered, and continued to clean Jim thoroughly, as though he were going to go into an operating room, or into a room with old artifacts.

"Oh, I know, Chief." And Jim shuddered too. When Blair finished cleaning Jim, Jim took the washcloth and returned the favor with sure, slow strokes that threatened to remove all the dead skin from his body. They weren't rough enough to cause anything more than a mild burn on his skin. It was a pleasant feeling, and it seemed to rile him up even more.

"Ok, Jim." Blair noticed that the big guy was running his hands and cloth over the same patch of skin. It wasn't a zone out, but it was intensity focused on something small. Almost a 'mini-zone', or something. He was still in control, but he'd lost the plot. Maybe this was why Blair was driving tonight. _Dayum._ The thought just made him even harder, which he hadn't been sure was possible. He began to shiver slightly, and gave Jim a small smile when the tendril of thought formed between them into a question. "It's okay, Jim. I'm just..." He paused, gazing straight into Jim's eyes. "Eager."

"Me too, Chief, me too. Let's dry off and ... " _and get to it, then._ Jim reached around him and turned the water off, surrounding him with skin for a short period of time.

Blair chuckled at the directness of Jim's thoughts. "I think there'll be a difference in this relationship, because we're both male, and because we can hear each other think, Jim. Direct is good. Direct is great, actually." He let himself natter on a little more switching between verbal and mental as he dried both of them off, and then inhaled sharply as he started walking toward the room. _I feel -- I feel like this is a new step. You know, how brides are carried across thresholds -- well, it's to mark him bringing her into his home. Into his family. I know this is more than you wanted to hear right now, Jim, but it's on my mind._ He kept the monologue up, responding more to the emotions and nudges he was getting. Proto-thoughts, so to speak. _I'm only pointing it out because I wanted you to know how I feel. I'm feeling like we're reaching that point here. That ritual point. I don't want you to carry me across the threshold, but -- something --_ He sighed, wanting to reach into the tornado (as Jim thought of it) and find something appropriate to do.

"I have an idea, Chief. Just hold on." Jim wrapped his towel around his waist, and stepped out toward the kitchen for a moment, returning back into the room. "I can't give you a ring, Blair, at least not yet. It wouldn't be safe to be out and working with you, even if I want to be, with all my heart." Blair's heart caught. "I do have the next best thing." He opened his closed fist, and on his palm lay his dog tags. "They're what I have. They're a representation of my service, my identity, and my commitment to justice and protection of those under my care -- now they represent something new. They'll be a symbol of how much I -- I care for you Chief, and I want you to know that. You quoted your 'prophet' for me. I don't have that. I've got -- I've got my gun, my badge, my senses, and this. With this, I want you to know that you _are_ a part of me. I have taken you into my life, my avocation, my work, my home, my heart. I don't usually say stuff like this, Blair, so hear it." _Because it might be a while before I get up the courage to say it again._

Blair was shocked. He stood there, frizzy hair dripping on their Sentinel-clean floor, and he had to intentionally close his mouth. "I -- I don't know what to say, Jim. I'll wear them with pride, when it's appropriate. I'm not going to show an outward sign when it'll get us in trouble, but damn. Yeah. I'll wear them as often as I can. Th -- thank you, Jim." He felt his eyes water and took the chain, draping it over his neck. "I may take them off when we get in there, man, because I don't want anything in the way when I claim you." He blushed at being so blunt, but it felt refreshing. "C'mon, Big Guy. Let me show you how I feel." He grinned, and led them toward Jim's bed.

"How do you want me, Sandburg? Do you want me laying on my back, my stomach, my side, sitting? How?" Jim was a little nervous, Blair could tell. Blair huffed a laugh and set about positioning Jim on his back first.

"We'll start this way and then see. I don't know exactly how it's going to be. It's not like your experience. Yours was a series of steps to reach the objective. Mine's a more nebulous series of objectives, and a little leeway to get there. But I do know that I have to -- "

 _Drive. You're going to drive this time._ Jim sounded a little embarrassed, as he always was when he was talking about sex and love. Blair grinned exasperatedly at his lover, and leaned down to kiss him slowly, languidly. He wanted Jim to know how he felt with more than just the thoughts between them. It seemed that Jim understood actions more than words sometimes, so he did his best to convey it in every way he possibly could. Jim seemed to rise up into the kiss, to engage without pushing. Blair assumed he was drawing his own tempo and reactions from what he could gather with his body and mind. It was an extremely pleasurable experience.


	6. Chapter 6

When Blair leaned over to kiss him, Jim immediately threw himself into the kiss. It was unlike anything else he'd ever experienced. Definitely different than kissing a woman. He grinned a little, enough to encourage Sandburg's lips open, and then slid his tongue slowly in. He _was_ going to let the kid drive, but it didn't mean he had to sit back and think of the Jags. He snorted, and returned his thoughts to the feel of Blair's lips, the scent of his skin, the sounds the man made as he shifted around to spread his body across Jim's own. And then, Blair started running his hands up and down Jim's body. The nerves fired happily, giving him an almost electric thrill -- made much stronger by Jim's enhanced senses. He was a little surprised. He'd expected a harsh, brutal time their first time together. _Not that I'm complaining, Kid, but is there a reason you're taking it so sweet and slow?_

Blair didn't pause at all, but gave a soft huff through his nose that tickled against Jim's sensitive skin. _Because I love you, you big galoot. I want you to know that. I want you to know what I think of you. Sometimes, it's too hard to say. Sometimes, I just need to show you._ This all seemed to come at him in a rush, parsed by his own mind like data bursts sent across into his laptop over a phone line.

Jim reached around Blair's back, and started stroking his body, keeping to the sensuous, slow rhythm Blair had set. As he said, he'd let the kid have control this time out. He understood the need. His erection was as hard as a rock, and it wasn't going anywhere. Not with Blair right there, right in his bed.

 _God, I love kissing you._ Blair's mental voice was breathy, and it was Jim's turn to laugh. It was a pleased, surprised laugh. _What?_ The question was half-hearted. _Is it funny?_

 _No, babe, just surprised._ Jim replied, letting out a soft groan as Blair detached from his lips to move on down his body with licks, kisses and bites. It seemed he had a map with the data points right on it. And maybe he did. Maybe this link between them gave him enough information to discover things like that. It was kind of nice and kind of scary at the same time.

Blair's kisses slowed. _Everything okay, Jim?_ He pulled back, replacing mouth with strokes of his hand. He looked directly into Jim's face while he 'spoke'. _This alright?_ He ran his fingers over Jim's nipples, and then lowered his head again, worrying them gently with his teeth.

 _Oh -- oh, yeah, Blair. Everything's great. I was just realizing how much of myself I've hidden, and it's gonna all be out there for you to see. I'm just a little worried you won't --_ He couldn't even finish the thought.

Blair raised his head again, gazed into his eyes, and gave a soft frown. His hands and body stilled. "I've known for a long time you weren't perfect, Ellison. And there isn't a whole lot you can tell me that I haven't figured out, or can guess. I mean, specific stuff about what you did as a Ranger, sure. But that's no big deal. I know it was huge. I know you, Jim. I have for a while. And as I said, I chose this. It was my choice walking into this." He rolled off Jim, laying on his side, propping himself up on one elbow. He played idly, tapping his fingers on his sternum and pecs. "Before you called me back, I thought long and hard about what it meant to be in a relationship that was closer than anyone had ever heard of. I had heard of male marriage. Male partners so close they have a bond near this. Never heard of anything like this, but there are some couples -- both men -- who fight together and become this -- this thing -- " Jim smiled fondly at Blair's vocabulary failure. "They become like this singular machine. They anticipate each other's needs so much that they talk without talking. I mean, we do that now, in front of Simon, and he gets so frustrated -- " Blair laughed. "It's kind of funny, actually. It's gonna be even more hilarious now that we actually _are_ talking to each other." _But that's all off the point._ Blair's inner re-director sounded a lot like Jim's own voice. Again, scary. "The point is that I walked into this situation, walked out of the Jungle, walked into your arms, _knowing_ that I'd be tied to you and I knew I knew who you are. So, don't be scared. I love you." He gave his biggest shit-eating grin and started tickling. Not obnoxiously, but lightly running his fingers over Jim's body in ways that just made his nerves sing.

"Alright, Sandburg. I'll trust you. I have for quite a while. I can't say I always have, because I haven't. But I'll do my best. You know -- " _You know the crappy upbringing I had, and I'm trying to do better here. So, it may take a bit._ "Now. You were kissing me?" Jim grinned, and pulled Blair back up on his body, kissing him again in that slow, deep way, returning the sentiments Blair'd expressed with his kiss.

Blair began to deepen the kiss, shifting a leg between Jim's two, lowering his cock to Jim's thigh. It felt so good he had to think of weird things to prevent himself from shooting too soon. _Don't do that, Jim. I can hear that, and it's weird._ This led to another round of laughter from both of them, the laughter bouncing around inside their skulls, and only escaping as soft breaths against each others' skin.

 _Well, then, you'd better do what you're gonna do, Sandburg, or it'll be over way too soon. You need to start that prep work stuff. Because I need to have you inside me, please._ It was becoming a throbbing ache. He'd never done this, not like this, but it wasn't an issue. He had thought it might be when he realized how closely he'd been linked to his Guide. But it wasn't. It was just another step down the road toward Something Greater. He was willing to walk the path. There was no fear. There might've been, had this been with another person, but it was almost like he had accepted this endpoint when he accepted Incacha's first call to him. Whether that was true or not, it felt that way, and he wasn't going to fix something that wasn't broken.

Blair nodded, tilting his head to listen through Jim's mental gymnastics, then felt around in the drawer in the nightstand. "I'm not going to put a condom on, Jim, because I don't think we need to. If you have a problem with that, we can do it, but if not, I'd rather not, simply because I'm pretty sure we're both clean." He waited until Jim gave him a slight nod of assent, and then slicked his finger.

"Yeah. It's been a while for me, Chief, as you know." He shifted, opening his legs up to let Blair reach his ass. With a sharp exhale, he shifted again, trying to allow Blair's finger to enter him slowly and carefully. The information he was gathering from Blair's brain said to relax completely and push against it. It seemed contradictory, but when he examined the 'data burst' a little more carefully, there was a muscle memory included. Jim tried it, and it seemed to work. "Oh, that's interesting. We'll have to test that one." He chuckled at the irony of being the one to mention it. But it was useful. Maybe he could give Blair some of his training the same way.

"Huh. Didn't know we could do that." Blair said, grinning easily, working his finger around inside Jim's body. When he pushed it in just a little further, Jim got a sharp shock of pleasure, and Blair's grin widened even further. "There it is. Yeah, baby." He tapped against it a couple times, and then withdrew his finger slowly, working a second in with it. He scissored the fingers around, and then repeated the process with a third finger. "That enough, you think?" He could feel the man's intense feelings. There was this worry that he wouldn't get it right, pure need, and this care, this love that seemed to effuse through every bit of it. Jim wasn't sure what to think of that feeling. He'd never known anything like it. If this is what Blair lived on, he could understand him a little more. It was thrilling. Heady. Like a drug. He'd happily get addicted to this and stay high on it forever without a regret.

"I think that's good, babe." He spoke, but his voice was thready, weak. "Slide on in for me, Blair. Please." He sounded so needy, but it was the direct honesty they needed.

"Alright, Jim. Here goes." And Blair seated himself easily inside him before Jim noticed much discomfort at all.

"Oh, that feels good, Chief." He panted softly, shifting his angle again, hoping Blair would hit his prostate again. "Where's that sweet spot?"

"Give me just a moment, Jim. Then, I'll get it. It'll feel great, I tell you." Jim knew this, but also knew his partner was babbling because he could. He counted silently in his head, thinking of how much he cared for Blair, how weird but right this was, and how much he wanted to be thoroughly claimed by Blair. Only by Blair. "Oh, that's much better. There." Jim wasn't sure if Blair was referring to something physical, or his own mental mantra. Either way, 'better' was a positive thing to hear.

"Yeah. That feels good. So, what do you do -- ?" Jim's question was cut short by a brutally rough thrust that slammed right into his prostate. It didn't hurt, but it was nearly overwhelming with its intensity. "Oh, God...." He started muttering, both mentally and verbally, sometimes on different tracks, but neither track was very understandable. Most of it was unintelligible sounds and thoughts. As Blair moved, he couldn't help thrusting back to meet him, making the thrust even more intense. It set his skin aflame. His eyes rolled back, and he just floated on a sea of intense pleasure. It was so good it almost hurt. As Blair continued to move, though, something began happening between them. Howler and Prowler came into the room, stalking and loping, circling them quietly. Prowler would let out a soft hiss, but it wasn't an angry hiss. More like an intense feeling of claiming. Howler started behaving oddly too, as though he were attempting to patrol the room, protecting the two humans and the spirit-beast from whatever was outside their little room.

"They're -- they -- consider -- us -- to be -- pack -- pride -- family unit now." Blair's explanation, at least the verbal one, was stilted from his exertions. Jim kind of liked that he was getting the kid so hot and bothered. With a puffed laugh, Blair shook his head. "Yeah. Just you wait -- Big Guy. You're ... driving next time." Mentally, Blair's mind was going through all the tribes and the animal totems and spirits and understandings he had. Jim didn't feel the hurricane. Or, rather he did, but he was in the eye now. It was awhirl around him, but he was safe inside. Blair felt such a deep relief at that realization that Jim felt bad for having to deny him earlier. "Things -- are -- shifting, Jim." Jim had noticed that, but he was so high on the pleasure of the act they were involved in that he hadn't consciously cataloged _what_ was changing.

"Yeah." His own voice was strained. He hadn't heard himself with this particular tone of voice before. He'd been breathy from sex, sure. But it was different accepting the movement and going from there than it was to be the one moving inside another person. He liked it. With Blair, it was very much like being talked out of a zone. He was allowed to release the controls, or be told where to set them. Most of the time, yes, he liked to have his hands on the knobs and setting things precisely how he needed them to be set. However, once in a great while, the hands came back, and he just listened to Blair's voice tell him where to set each dial, how to link them together, how to work together to get what he needed to do his job. It had become second nature, and it was the same here. It was Blair. Blair, whose pace had begun to increase, who lowered his body over Jim's own again, kissing him even more stupid than he already was. It was amazing. Then, Blair grabbed his dick, pulling in time to his thrusts. Not too sharply, but not as gently as the women he'd bedded had done. It felt right. He slipped further and further into the white noise of the pleasure of their joining, and felt the pressure build behind his balls. "Comin', Chief."

"Yeah. Me too. Come for me, man. Come on. You're mine. All I got to say, all I got to say, man, is that you belong to me. Forever, man." Blair was nearly out of breath, but the speed kept increasing instead of decreasing. He kept moving and it wasn't long at all until Jim shot his seed between them, landing on Blair's stomach, and dribbling down on to the bed. Jim didn't notice, though, because he was nearly insensate with the pleasure of the orgasm. Blair thrust another couple times, and it was all over. He slumped down beside Jim, careless of the mess, and pulled Jim in close. Sandburg had always been tactile, and he was pretty tactile himself. This just added a new dimension to their need.

When he set to checking himself over physically, mentally and otherwise, Jim discovered something. His body -- felt different. He was inside it, but he was also ... somewhere else. That other place was another body, but it wasn't weird or X-Files creepy. It was good. Like his heart had a summer home. Or -- or that the two of them lived in a duplex. He'd met this crazy old man outside of Cascade who had this duplex. He and his wife had lived in it for years. The bedrooms had been adjacent, so he knocked out the wall between them and each of them had their own house. They moved freely between them, of course, but two kitchens, two living rooms, two bathrooms, the works. That's how Jim felt. He was in the bedroom of that duplex.

"That's a good example, Jim. That's exactly how I feel." Jim hadn't even thought that very loudly. "Well, before, we were in the same ... in the same city as each other, calling on the phone, or something. Now, we're like in bed together in a shared house, and don't want to leave, which is good, because we can't." _phrased it that way on purpose. Don't want him to think I don't want to be here. **chose** this. Chose it, dammit._

"I know you did, Blair. I know, Kid." He rolled over to face him. "I have to be honest, here. I'm not sure I would have chosen. For your life, yeah, sure. That's easy. But this life, this connection? I'm not sure I would have picked it. But..." He held up a finger, moving it into Blair's vision to make sure the man didn't start that train of thought he could feel forming. "But, Chief, being here..." He snorted, shaking his head a little. "No regrets. Got that?" He emphasized his point by tapping his lover's nose. "No regrets. None." He leaned in, kissing Blair intensely and thoroughly. When he pulled back, they were both breathless again. "So, next time I drive, huh? Wanna fool around until then?"

There were no objections to that idea.

* * *

 

They'd gotten out of the Hospital on Thursday or so, Blair thought in a haze, and they hadn't left the bed for two whole days. Well, if he was going to get technical, they _had_ gotten _out_ of the bed. They'd moved to eat, to pee, to shower, and to sit in front of the television for part of that game. He snorted softly, gazing down at Jim as he slept. _Part, because we ended up necking and headed right back up stairs before the third quarter was over._ He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep up this intense pace, but he understood the necessity of getting all of this out in the open together before they went back to work. They had to know how they were going to keep this a secret -- if they could, and what would be triggers for this intense need to check each other out thoroughly. Neither one of them wanted to let the other out of his sight for very long at all, and Blair hoped that the feeling was short-term. Otherwise, they might have trouble supporting themselves. No work, no food.

"You know, you think awfully loudly, Chief." Jim stirred, stretching much like his totem. "What's bothering you now? Wait...." Blair could feel Jim peering into the maelstrom that really was his thoughts. They'd tried to see how much they could understand in the other's mind without being told. It was kind of a game to them now. "Oh. Yeah. I agree." Even though they really didn't have to, they had decided early on to try to talk at least a good portion of the time out loud. Save the mental communication for things close to the heart or for emergencies. "It's already lessening for me. I want to keep you safe, yes, but you don't have to be on me, in me, around me or beside me twenty-four seven. I can let you out of the room." He snorted sarcastically. "But if this goes on much longer, I'm going to get cabin fever. I'm not used to spending this much time in my room. Even when -- " _Even when Carolyn and I were on honeymoon, we got out at least a few times._ Blair could feel the self-deprecating humor, and the worry that mentioning his ex-wife would hurt his feelings.

"Jim, she is a major part of your life. Yes, I said _is_ on purpose. It was a huge event, a huge relationship. Being married is more than just a relationship. It's -- it's an institution, man." _Never been married myself, of course, unless you count -- this -- whatever it is, it's closer than that, I assume, but ..._ "Being married is a societal change. So much of your life changes when you marry. In any society. It's a bond that signifies maturity. Did you know that in some societies, unless you are married, or have been married, you're not even considered a full adult? There's still some of that here. So I understand you thinking about how things were with Carolyn. I know if we could put walls between us, if we were separate like ... " _like normal people_ "Like everyone else, then you'd never mention it out loud. Probably not even think of it for very long. It'd cross your mind, you'd settle the comparison to figure out your plan of action in relation to cause and effect then, and go from there. Like I said, man, I know you." Blair grinned down at Jim, unable to resist the pull, leaning down to kiss him gently before curling up in his arms again. They'd had to figure out a 'standard position' pretty quickly. Otherwise, Blair's hair ended up in Jim's mouth, or Jim's hands ended up falling asleep under Blair's ass, or ... other weird things happening. If they hadn't been rushed into this, _pretty much forced_ his mind offered up -- though he couldn't feel too horribly about it -- they could have eased into the connection, slept apart until they were sure, or something. But this intense need to share space every night was strange. Not 'strange' like witches or pedophile strangers, but 'strange' like watching a wedding in a totally different culture and realizing that, no, no one was going to ask the traditional line that ended with 'speak now or forever hold your peace,' and the reason wasn't that people couldn't object, but because they had other recourses to do so _before_ the ceremony. Blair chuckled as he snuggled back into Jim, relishing the feel of his skin against his own.

Jim nodded against his shoulder. "I can see that, Chief. I really can. I mean, looking into your head, I can almost ... visually _see_ that. But I still have this -- this thing that says I shouldn't talk to you about her. But you knew her. And you knew we were married. And it was nothing like this, where I can't help the thoughts that cross my mind. So, I really shouldn't feel like I can't -- can't tell you about it. I don't know." He slid an arm up, underneath Blair's arm, to stroke soothingly on his chest. It was something that they found themselves doing. Like a baby soothing herself by sucking on her thumb. Which made sense, since their relationship was baby brand new.

Blair arched toward Jim's fingertips, and sighed contentedly. "I imagine we'll get through this. I don't think They'd lead us here without some sort of reason. I mean, you can't be the 'Sentinel of the Great City' if you can't leave your bed, can you?" He snickered, and tried to envision Jim as a stationary 'warning system'. It was really hilarious. He snickered, and heard Jim's quiet huff of laughter behind him. "So, you see, I'm pretty sure there's an end in sight. Just not sure when or how it'll happen."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Blair felt Jim sniff his skin, not in an arousing way, but another of those little centering things. He smiled. His mind started going through all the different ways he could keep his scent around Jim. Sleep with a set of scarves and have Jim wear them when they were cold. Make a bracelet out of some of the cuttings from his hair next time he got a trim. Things like that. "Good ideas, Chief." There was real approval there, and Blair melted into it.

"Thanks, man. I've been turning this over in my head a lot, trying to find all the different ways we can make this easier on ourselves and ..." _Simon_ "everybody else." He rolled on to his back, allowing Jim to move his arms to compensate, like a well-orchestrated dance. He wanted to look into his lover's eyes. "I wish I could show you how it felt for you to take me in the Jungle, Jim. It was -- It was a freaky experience, but it was so hot." Amazingly enough, his dick remained quiescent. Blair figured it was because they'd worn each other out pretty thoroughly already. Maybe they were finally getting to that point -- "You want to try to do something outside the house today? Maybe go get some food, or something? We've got a few things left, since we've mostly been ordering in, but that gets expensive and unhealthy." His mind was going through the nutrients they'd been missing, just as a matter of course. He felt his partner's humor over the thought, but nothing more, which was a bit of a surprise. "And I know Megan called wondering if we needed groceries or whatever. We could invite her along. She knows about the Sentinel thing, doesn't she, so it wouldn't be this huge thing if something went wrong, and she could get us home..." He paused mid-thought, waiting for Jim's response. He felt the man's thoughts go through this layered process. It was a tree of cause and effect, and Blair found it extremely fascinating. If he tried that, he'd end up going down one of the pathways, and not even seeing the other. It was why the whirlwind worked for him. Connections would form and dissipate like rocks smashing together in the wind, and most of the time, when they fit, they'd stick together and sink. Huh. Too bad he'd never be able to prove this.

"Might be a good idea, Blair. It'd give us a chance to try normality with a knowing audience. We'll have to watch the funny business, though. Save it all for when we get home, or whatever." Blair nodded, grinning up at Jim, knowing pretty much what he was going to say next. "We'll call her and have her come over in a couple hours. Meanwhile, I'm sticky and smelly. Shower." Jim started the process of disentangling himself from Blair, and they both got up to head to the shower.

* * *

 

Megan Connor got out of her car at Jimbo's place, and headed up the stairs to get him and Sandy. They needed someone to take them to the grocery store, and she'd offered. She liked both of them pretty well, and it was a bad job what happened to them. Fuckin' wrong. She snorted to herself as she finished taking the last set of stairs. She wondered why it had taken them a couple days to ask for her help. Maybe she could find out.

 _Knock-knock knock_. Megan knocked on their door. She always thought it was kind of funny that they lived together. It hinted at all sorts of things. Whether they were true or not, it was still hilarious. "Jimbo? Sandy?" She called out, hoping to get their attention.

"Coming, Megan." That was Sandy, for sure. She stepped back to let the door open, and was enveloped in a hug. Jimbo stood behind him, glaring at Megan for some reason.

"Connor." The name was growled out.

"Oh, come on. Not even out the door and you're ..." She heard Blair snort and then, she could barely believe it. Strong Jim Ellison ducked his head and blushed.

"C'mon Chief. Let's get this show on the road. Connor, sorry about that. Been a rough few days. Recuperating's taken its toll." She nodded to that obvious prevarication, but let it slide. She wasn't close enough to the man to pry. Now, Sandy, on the other hand...

They headed down the stairs and to her car, Sandburg looking pensively at it. "What do you think, Jim? Will you be okay in the front? So many little things we haven't talked about. It's easier in your truck because ..." The frown deepened, and then after a moment, Blair grinned. "Well, no time like the present, right man?" Jim chuckled, and held the door open for Sandy like he was a posh bird walking out with him. "Jim!" Sandy only sounded mildly outraged, mostly amused by the action. Megan chuckled and got into the car, only slightly weirded out by their antics.

Walking through the store, Megan noticed a few things. She wasn't a police Inspector for nothing. She noticed that they aren't talking a lot, but seem to be picking up on each other's wishes anyway. It's almost as if... "Sandy, you're not in his head, are you?" She had to ask.

"Busted -- " Sandy drawled out, grinning up at Ellison. "I told you it wouldn't take her that long. Now, it might take longer for someone who doesn't know us, or isn't a _detective_ for a living."

Both Jimbo and she started to speak at the same time, her "I'm an Inspector, mate, don't you forget it," overlapping his "Inspector Chief. Same animal, different climate."

"Well, whatever. She figures out mysteries for a living." Blair snickered. "I mean, I kind of do too, but of a totally different kind." He continued down the aisle, throwing a few more things into the rapidly filling buggy.

"Why did you need me to take you to the store, huh? Seems like you've got it covered." She grabbed a few things for herself, setting them up in the child seat area of the buggy to keep them separate from the boys' purchases.

Jim answers. "It's this new connection, Connor." He gestures between himself and Sandy, looking fairly apologetic. "We aren't sure of all the limits or constraints. And we really can't be separate more than we are right now. In fact, we're pushing it a bit as it is." He gazed over at Blair, and with the new information, Megan watched the invisible strands of thought passing between them.

"You two are about as subtle as an angry 'roo." She snickered, watching both of them redden again.

"Yeah, well, as we say, sweetheart, we're pretty new at this and it's ..." Jim gestured a couple times and looked away. He grabbed something from the shelf. Blair must have had some objection or something, because he put it back and grabbed the other brand right beside it.

"See, that right there for example. It's what I'm telling you. It wouldn't take too much training or observation to notice that you changed your mind much more quickly than you normally would have. By itself, it's nothing big, but together with the other stuff, it's telling."

"True. Thank you." Sandy beamed. "See, this is the thing I'm talking about. We need some sort of outside correction. Because we can't really correct each other anymore. " Something must have slightly panicked the poor boy, because he turned to Jim, and frowned deeply for just a short moment. Jim clearly reassured him of something, at least as much as he knew how, and they went on, Blair as happy as he had been.

"You'll get there. Won't be long." She beamed sunnily at them both, and eyed the cart. "Got all you need, then?"

"Thanks, Megan." Blair said with a grin, and frowned at Jim."What do you think, man, everything we need?"

Jim looked at the buggy calculatingly, seeming to check points off a list. "Yeah, Chief, I think we've got it. Thank you, Connor." She's not sure how Jim Ellison, the man who has a nickname for everybody in his social circle, hasn't given her a moniker yet. Maybe he's thinking about it. Or, maybe "inspector" and "Connor" double for nicknames. Bo-o-ring. She snorted, and both men looked over at her. "Something up, Connor?"

"Nothin', Jimbo." She shrugged and pushed the buggy toward the checkout queue.


	7. Chapter 7

They were riding home in the car, this time both in the back seat -- 'The better to hold your hand, my dear.' -- when a car whizzed past them through a red light.

"Fuckin', A, man." Megan swore and turned on her little light. "Sorry, Jim. Detour. You two aren't carryin', are ya?" Blair held his hands up sheepishly as he hadn't even thought about it.

"Well, I am." Jim looked a little sheepish himself, and Blair decided to needle him a bit about it.

 _Figures, Big Guy. Don't leave home without it, eh?_ He grinned, and winked at Megan, letting her know he was teasing his lover.

"Well, Chief, I've worn one longer than I haven't at this point, so it's become second nature. You put your belt on, you put your holster on, you fill it." _Feels kind of **naked** without it, actually._

Blair left the obvious innuendos alone, or tried to. Jim must have picked up on it, because the tops of his ears pinked just a little more. "Sorry man. I wasn't gonna say anything."

"You didn't have to, babe." Jim ducked his head, avoiding Megan's knowing look through the rear-view mirror. "Connor." Jim growled, "Keep your damn eyes on the road. Your driving's bad enough as it is."

"Touchyyyy!" Megan sing-songed, winking at Blair before taking a hard right.

"Whoa, Megan, that was a bit harsh, there." _You're such a good driver, Jim. I take such advantage of that._

 _Thank you, Chief. I know you like to bitch about not driving, but I do alright. It's this need to protect you. It even extends to being behind the wheel._ Jim tightened his grip on Blair's hand. "What's going on, Connor? You wouldn't be flashing the lights for a simple traffic violation."

 _That's true._ Blair agreed.

"Oh, Jim. Not sure I should tell you." She sounded nervous, and Blair tilted his head, leaning forward.

"Why not, Megan?" Blair asked, curious.

"Because you'll do your nut, Ellison." She shrugged. "But since you're backup on this, and since you do that best when you know more, or at least that's how I always see it," she turned a hard left, keeping a tail on the offending car. "We're pretty sure this guy works for Johnny Sampson."

"Johnny the Hand." Jim growled, and Blair sighed. _What, Kiddo? That bastard --_ Jim's rantings fell under the coherent radar: more grunts and exasperated sighs than any real language, and Blair nodded.

 _I get that, Jim, I really do._ He responded to the unspoken expression of emotion. It was untold, but it was clearly felt. _But what is it about this guy that gets your goat?_ He leaned over more, and pulled gently on Jim's arm, getting him to lean to the center as well. He needed a little more contact, and Jim did too. They ignored Megan's sputterings.

"Johnny wounded one of my partners in Vice when we were trying to get him. We'd gotten pretty far in, and then, someone recognized Davey. A cousin or something." Blair groaned, knowing exactly where this was going. "Yeah, Chief. It wasn't pretty. Because he was family to this guy, Johnny didn't kill him, but it was a near thing. Davey will never walk again, and Johnny's eluded us ever since. "

"Fuckin' wrong, mate." Megan said, gazing at Jim through the mirror again.

 _Tell me about Johnny, Jim. I mean, Megan might benefit too, but if you'd rather do it inside for now, and filter..._ Blair had learned how to find information in the filing cabinets of Jim's brain, but at the moment, he was choosing not to. He reserved that right for emergency situations. That could change, but at this point, it was his rule.

 _I've never seen the man, Blair, and that's the really odd thing. I've heard his heartbeat, and I've smelled his weird aftershave. Unfortunately, it's a common brand. But I remember times I've actually talked to him. But we can't find someone based on his voice and his aftershave and the rhythm of his heart._ This really bothered Jim, and if they were at home, Blair would lay his lover down, drape himself across him, and bury his head into his chest, letting Jim stroke his back. It really wouldn't even take anything more arousing, becasue the two of them could just ... connect.

He sighed. "Don't yell at me, Big Guy." He gazed down at the seat belt buckles, found the middle one, shifted it to the right just so, and unbuckled his seatbelt. He slid over into the middle seat, and Jim handed him the shoulder strap. Clicking it into place, he gave an exhalation of relief and moved to snuggle into Jim's side. "There. Sorry, Megan, but we're finding tactile contact grounds the connection better than anything. The more the better, but you probably didn't want to hear that."

"And I can't unhear it, either." She snorted, shaking her head at Blair. She ran through a yellow light, cursing roundly at the poor driver headed in the correct direction who just happened to be starting to move. "Fuckin' lights."

"Chief. This isn't keeping it close to the chest. You know it's not going to be long before everybody in the unit knows." Jim sounded worried. Blair asked a question without even really intending to, and Jim's reply was strong. _I'm worried about you, Romeo. I can't protect you if you get taken away._ There was a spike of panic, similar to what Blair had felt from him in the grocery store. Instead of the buzzing sound of the pain, there was a smell. Like something was burning. It was kind of amusing to Blair that his responses to Jim's moods tended to be meta-sensory -- they felt like he was looking at himself experiencing that sensation, and Jim's tended to be more primal in nature. Jim's were alerts. Not physical alerts, but mental --

"Like the EBS stuff on the television after I've gone to sleep and you're still watching. There are different patterns of sound based on the types of emergencies. And my mind's adapted that." Jim spoke aloud, but more quietly than he had been.

"Really? That's fascinating." Blair filed that away somewhere for future reference. He would have continued to think about it, relating and correlating, but then Megan picked up her radio and called into dispatch, checking the speeding car's license plate and address.

"Jim, we're gonna head over to the bastard's house." Megan flipped the car around a corner so fast that Jim whacked his head against the side of the car.

" _Connor!!_ Keep the car on the damn road!" Jim roared his displeasure, and ran his hands all over Blair's head, heedless of his own minor pain.

Blair winced, recognizing the buzzing sound for what it was. "Jim. I'm okay. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Other than feeling like a teenage girl with her Barbie dolls or something." Jim had no clue what he was talking about, Blair noted, but he understood what the man meant.

He chuckled, and leaned back onto Jim's shoulder. Jim wrapped his arm around Blair's body, keeping him close.

* * *

 

Jim leaned back against the car door and frowned. He _hated_ Johnny the Hand. He realized that Blair had a point -- he probably put too much into this case. He tended to do that. However, Davey had been a good friend, and he felt, as the city's "cop of the year" -- or its unheralded Sentinel, he needed to make it safer for those he loved.

 _Loved._ He winced as Connor took another turn. He had devised a couple of nicknames for her over the years, but her penchant for calling him Jimbo always unsettled him. He wasn't sure why. He left that rabbit-trail of thought, brought back to the present and to this situation by a slow stroking on his leg. _Loved._ He loved Sandburg. More than he'd loved anyone before. He'd felt a connection and responsibility to Carolyn, and Victoria and Laura had been exciting, powerful, sexy women -- but love?

He felt Blair withdraw a little, leaving him to contemplate in relative mental silence. A horn honking nearby drew him back. There wasn't time to contemplate this now, and he wasn't sure he needed to. He gazed down at Blair's expression, feeling his cheeks pink slightly. A quick listen showed him that Connor had her eyes on the road. For once. _Yeah, love._ He smiled and ruffled Blair's curls with his outer hand, and then turned toward Connor.

"What's the status, Connor?" He leaned forward a little bit, pulling Blair with him, so they could see a little more.

"Bastard got away, but we've got his current address. It's one of his goons, we think, Jim." Jim could feel the muscles in his cheek tense with that information. _Damn._

"Jim, do you have any proof that there is one guy calling the shots and that it's not some 'Dread Pirate Roberts' thing going on?" Blair frowned, the whirlwind inside their minds working furiously, trying to connect pieces he had read from the reports. Stray wind tried to enter his quiet, _clean_ library.

"Chief, stop that. What do you want to know?" With Connor knowing their secret, he didn't feel bad about letting her hear their banter.

"Just looking for patterns, man. Could you ... copy the information and let me see, or can we do that?"

"Well, technically, we could, I suppose. I don't know how we'd --" He felt the storm subside, and there was a pressure on his arms. He frowned worriedly. Often, a calm Sandburg was more dangerous than a hyped-up, hopped up one.

"Well, isn't that polite." Blair snarked half-heartedly.

"Truth hurts, Chief." Megan snickered at his rejoinder, and he decided to enlist her help, allow her to feel a little more connected to them. "Isn't that right, Connor? He's more dangerous when he falls still."

"Not wrong, mate. Kind of like a fuckin' toddler." Connor laughed, and pulled up to an old building. "This is it, boys." She smiled, and gestured between them. "Might want to save the -- connecting until we're out of range of people."

"Right. Up, Sandburg." Blair shifted away from him, stroking his arm one last time. He sent a proto-thought toward Jim, and Jim nodded. "Remember, Connor. If we get separated, get us back together. We really don't know what'll happen if we're apart that long yet. This was supposed to be a simple trip to the store, but --"

"Fate's a cruel bitch, and she hates us." Blair mused, sarcastically.

"Hopefully, she doesn't hate you that much." Connor was looking through her binoculars. "Jim, can you see anything?" Or hear or smell, or ... yeah, he knew the drill. With his senses heightened even more since the -- blending, he needed Blair more than ever.

"Chief, you hold on to my arm. You'll know..." And he would. That was actually reassuring. "Where are the furballs?" Megan looked confused for a moment, but ignored it, in favor of focusing on her task.

"I haven't seen them around here. Do we need them? Sort of have them come around back to find anybody?" Jim shrugged at Blair's words.

"Don't know Chief." He turned his ear to start to listen for anything unusual.

"They're --" _Oh, god, Jim. They're all worn out. I peeked in to see them, and they're snoring away. I think we may have overdone it a bit, at least whatever their part is... I never pay attention to that ..._ Even deeper, there was an inadvertent thought. _I'm too busy with other things._

"We both were, Blair. Though I did catch -- " _Not the time, though, not with Connor around._ He could feel his cheeks pinking again, and felt the rush of pleasure in Blair's mind like an old jazz song in the background, complete with woman, piano, and bar smoke. _I'll have to explain it later._ His own deeper thought slipped out. _Complete with a demonstration, of course._ He shook off his own thrill of arousal, and focused on the input from his ears. "Two individuals in there. One's asleep or possibly knocked out. No blood smell, so they're uninjured. The second one is standing close to the door. There's an old cuckoo clock on the wall in the first room, so it's probably someone's home. I know that one company was refurbishing some of these old warehouses into apartments for students." _Had you heard anything about that, Chief? Like whether they were decently priced, or slum lord central, or anything like that?_

 _No, not that I -- Oh, wait._ Cue windstorm, except this one spun around to all the different corners like a small dust devil looking for a particular stone. _Oh, that's right. Yeah. Mindy Parkinson had said that she had stayed in one of these with a guy and other than hearing weird noises at night, it was a pretty good deal._

"What kind of noises, Chief?" Jim spoke out loud with the full understanding that he was starting in the middle. _Connor might have some input, that's all. And she's figured it out, so it doesn't hurt while it's just us._ Jim replied to Blair's nonplussed reaction.

 _That's true, Jim._ Blair frowned, and tried to remember, the dust devil slowing down to a whistling desert wind as he concentrated on the memory. He could almost see it play out on a section of the wall like a video screen.

 _That's pretty cool, Sandburg. Put that on your list for tests. If I'm a library, maybe there's some AV equipment, instead of having it just out on the wall like that._

"You can see that?" This wasn't as easy to explain, but they weren't really going to explain much of anything to her. She'd gotten wary of their attempts to explain, especially after the first one. She understood when the shit hit the fan why they did what they did, but Jim thought it had hurt. "I mean, that's freaking amazing, Jim. Yeah." _That'll go down on the list, for sure._ And in Jim's perception of Blair's thoughts, it did. On a big white board.

Jim snorted again at the irony of him being the one to suggest tests. But he trusted Blair so much more now. _And not just because I can read your thoughts, Chief. The fact that you did this for me..._ He sighed, and closed his eyes. _Need to get back to listening._ He focused himself on his task, comparing the noises in the 'video' to the noises in the building. "They're not the same, but similar. I can't tell what they are..." He frowns, turning toward Sandburg, expecting some sort of 'instruction' on how to filter out the noises and then realizes he doesn't need it. He just needs the physical touch. "Hang on, Chief." Setting his hand on Blair's, sliding his fingers between his lover's, Jim let his mind slide into the state where he could discern the discrete sounds. "There's a ... whirring..."

"That sounds like a printer." Blair frowned, and Jim understood why. He wasn't expecting to be able to hear the sounds. "But it's too ... strong. Like ... "

"Oi, mates. Maybe it's a press of some sort?" Megan was blinking at them by now, wondering what in the hell was going on. But if it helped them solve the case ... Jim was pretty sure she'd be okay with it.

"Could be, Connor." Jim nodded, and focused on another sound. "Another whirring, but it's more like a roll of something. It sounds very similar to whatever's going through our printer." He waved a hand in a very Sandburg-like movement. "Press, whatever."

Both the other two in the car nodded, Blair's curls tickling his neck as he did. "Maybe the roll of metal going through whatever press it is?" Jim nodded. That made sense. "Megan, Jim, is this area zoned for industry? Or ..."

Jim understood right away. "If they're breaking zoning laws, we've got a window for a warrant"

"Yeah, man." Blair nodded. "And if they really are violating zoning protocol...maybe they're doing it in all the different houses." He shrugged. "But, maybe they can figure that out later. I know you want in on this, Jim..." Blair cut off his pending objections. "But I know we're not ready to be out, and we've got frozen food, and Megan's got other stuff we're keeping her from. And now she's got a lead on this, and she'll let us know..." The last was spoken in clear tones. Guide voice.

Jim grinned widely. "Yeah, you're right. Connor, keep us in the loop?"

"Can do, Jimbo." Megan started up her car and started what she called driving. They were home within minutes.

* * *

 

They got up to the loft, got the food put away, and then, as Blair figured they would, they headed back up the stairs to reconnect. They'd learned a lot while they were out there. Obviously, no one intended for them to be back out on the street yet, but the situation had given them serious food for thought. They did -- eventually -- have that discussion about their animals. Blair laid in Jim's arms, happily playing smaller spoon again, and thought about it. Jim was half asleep, but he was awake enough to contribute when he could. There was still something missing. Their totems shouldn't feel the need to protect them so closely. Protect them from what? Jim could detect any threat --

 _Unless it's not physical, Chief. Then, that's your domain. You're the one who knows the way into the Jungle. And not everything in there is pleasant._ They'd discovered that the hard way when Jim had had to pull Blair back out. Blair had been meditating, and had stepped into the Jungle for a few minutes. Something had been there with him and Howler, and it wasn't Prowler. It was big, black, amorphous, and dammed scary.

Blair shuddered at the memory, and Jim's arms tightened around his frame. "Yeah." He spoke softly, even though it was superfluous. It was habit. "I just feel like there's something missing. They shouldn't feel so tired, not if we're doing this right. And we should be able to function normally, I think." He had been reiterating that he thought they'd get there eventually, but at this point he wasn't sure how true that was without some sort of intervention. He pulled a little away from Jim, enough that he could turn around, and gazed into his face. "I just worry I'm not doing my part right. There's more here, and I don't know what. It's like ..."

"I hear you, Chief." Jim nodded, and rubbed his hand across the plane of Blair's skin. If they hadn't just been fucking like bunnies, Blair would have gotten hard in an instant with that gentle, loving touch. It seemed to feed something in him when Jim did it. He tried to return the favor, tried to explain, but it was different. Jim would just grin, and turn the tables on him again. Intense. Pure intensity. That was what it was. He frowned, and returned to his previous train of thought. "Sleep now, and we'll do something when we wake up. I have a few ideas." Blair's retort must've gotten through, because Jim slapped his hand down lightly on Blair's stomach. "Not like that, Romeo. Real ideas. Please. I have been living with you for how long now?"

Blair nodded. "Alright." He rolled back on to his side, tucked himself back against Jim again, and dozed off.

 

* * *

 

Jim felt Blair doze off again, and frowned. He hadn't lied. He just hadn't told the complete truth. His ideas would probably get them all in trouble, but it was what he felt he needed to do. He waited unitl Blair was more deeply asleep, pulled the covers up around him, and stood up to grab his mobile phone. He dialed a number, and luckily, someone answered. _Good. She was still there. You never could tell._

"This is Naomi." Jim had figured that with the slight breathy respiration and the unique timbre.

"Naomi, this is Jim Ellison. Are you still fairly close to Cascade?" Unfortunately, this was the easiest way to get the information to her. It had the side effect of making her think something was wrong with her baby boy.

"Is Blair alright, Jim? I can be there tonight, if I need to. Is he in the hospital? Are you okay?" Naomi knew that at this point, Jim would have to be seriously wounded to let something get to Blair like that.

"Blair is fine. Well, mostly fine. He's perfectly healthy. It's hard to explain, Naomi, but it's something I think you can help us with. Mostly Blair, but ..." He really didn't want to get into this on the phone.

"I hear you." Naomi spoke clearly. "I'll be there tonight. Now, Jim, you sound tired. If you can, you need to take a nap, and I'll be there in a couple hours. I'll call when I reach Cascade."

"Understood. And Naomi," Jim paused, waiting for her sound of curious assent before continuing. "I've heard that that little store in Chinatown has a different herb that has the same effects as sage, or is supposed to. If you wouldn't mind grabbing some? Li Min will know which one I mean. I'm not allergic to it, and I think it'd help." He felt like an idiot, but he'd do about anything for Sandburg.

"I think I had heard that. I'll go check. Li Min is such a lovely lady." Jim should have known. Of course she'd met Li Min. Blair had probably introduced them.

"She is." Jim agreed, inanely. "I'll see you then, Naomi. Bye."

"Goodbye, Jim." She sounded happy to have a mission. Jim sighed and climbed back into bed to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Blair awoke to the sound of the telephone, and Jim answering it. What he heard was intriguing, so he started to push on the light barrier between their minds. Jim paused in his conversation long enough to send Blair a quick message.

 _Don't push on this, Blair. Trust me, please?_ He returned to talking to the person on the other end and sent another message up to Blair. _You will need to be up and dressed._ There was a pause, and an exchange on the phone, and Jim continued. _Wear your gray sweats and a tee shirt, please._

Now Blair was more intrigued, and if he thought about it honestly, worried. Jim was picking out his clothes for him? And he recognized the clothes as some of the most comfortable he owned. However, he trusted Jim enough, so he changed his clothes quickly and started to head downstairs. "Hey, Jim, what's goin' on?" _You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I'd like to know what you're expecting of me, at the very least._

Jim had obviously finished his conversation on the phone, and turned to draw Blair into an embrace. "Don't worry chief. I just brought in an expert. We'll get this figured out, and then we'll be able to move on, I hope."

"That's a bit worrying, man. Who'd you find that knows this kind of thing better than us? Incacha's gone, and a lot of the people who claim to be ..." Jim cut him off with a long, searing kiss. _No fair, man._ He could continue the tirade mentally, but he was too busy enjoying the kiss to say anything else.

Jim's arms wrapped tightly around him, and they stood there kissing for several long, blissful minutes before Jim pulled away. "Go wash your face, Chief. I'll get the door." Blair hadn't heard anything, but Jim was always right about these things, so he didn't question the man, just went into the bathroom, ran water over his face, and stepped back out to see ...

Naomi. Jim had called Naomi. And she was waving around a sheaf of that Chinese herb Blair had started to use when he was meditating. "Holy Experts, Batman." Blair whispered, knowing his lover would hear, both with his Sentinel senses and through their currently completely open link. "You called my mother." He couldn't help blinking his eyes, attempting to hold back the tears, when his mother spoke.

"Oh, my. Your aura has changed. It's completely different, son. What have you been doing? It doesn't feel -- "

"Mom... Some things have changed, and I won't be able to get my aura back to where it was. There's a new -- " He tried to think of a way to explain it to Naomi that wouldn't explain _too_ much when Jim sent a questioning tendril of thought toward him.

 _Tell her?_ Jim asked, not quite completely putting it into a full complete thought. _She'll notice more than anyone else. Maybe her, maybe Dad, Sally, Steve, maybe the other detectives..._ Those who knew them best.

It made sense, but Blair was nervous. This was a switch. "Mom -- something happened..."

"It'll be easier for her if she just looks at me for a while, babe." The tenderness in Jim's voice spoke volumes, both to himself and to Naomi.

Naomi tilted her head, and looked over at Jim. "Well. Isn't that unique. I've never seen that before. The color of both of your auras is now combined -- How did you manage to do that, sweetheart?"

"It's a soul bond, we think. We have visited the spirit realm quite a bit, and we bonded while there together. That was the only way I could save his life, Naomi, and I'm not ashamed of it. I -- We -- " He wasn't sure how to clear up the last bit. "We're pretty much connected in every way. There's just something not settled with the bond. Someone touches him, and I want to claw his eyes out. If you were to hug me right now, Jim would most likely growl, and step toward you with a scary expression on his face. Before he got control of himself and backed off."

"I see, dear." Naomi replied, though it was pretty clear she didn't see, or didn't understand. "What did you need my help for, then?"

"As Blair said, there's something unsettled. I wondered if you'd be willing to watch over us, and maybe provide the drum for us to go back into the Jungle for a while? Maybe we missed something there. Or, if you had any ideas... I know you've spent more of your life looking into this sort of thing than --" Jim didn't finish his sentence, and Blair couldn't get over the weirdness of Jim Ellison asking Naomi Sandburg for help with something in the Spiritual realm.

"Oh, Jim. Of course I'll help. And this herb is just perfect. Sage would be better, but it wouldn't help the auras for you to be sneezing the whole time." Naomi gave Jim a benevolent smile, but Blair could see she was still a little confused. "We can try a few things, see what works. Blair do you still have that CD I sent you of the -- " She rifled through the CDs near the player. "Aha. Here it is. Now, I'm going to put the music on, and we'll go from there."

Blair grinned over at his lover, and stepped toward him, wrapping his arm around his waist. He reveled in the touch, feeling the connection sing. He felt emboldened, and leaned up for a kiss. "Sorry, Mom, but ..." He readied an explanation, excuses, whatever it would take to soothe Naomi.

"Oh, no, Blair. Jim's a great man for you. Better than a lot of the other people you've been with, I think. And you know each other so well..." She smiled. "Now, Blair, you sit there, at the North point. For Air. Here." She directed him to sit down on the ground at a certain point. "Jim, do you have a fan? Just a small one?" Jim nodded and ran to get it. "Oh, that's just perfect. And -- " She stepped over to the counter, filling a glass with water, lighting one of Jim's favorite candles, and setting them at their points in a circle. " Jim, you sit here. At the South point." Jim hastily complied with all the acquiescence and submission of a soldier under command. "Now, we just need earth..."

"There's a potted plant in my old room, Mom." Blair blushed as he mentioned the room. "It's got a good amount of dirt in it. It should do -- unless you're thinking more rock? Then, I've got a few totems, but I'm not sure if their other uses will interfere."

"The plant will be just fine, sweetheart." She stepped into the room, and set the plant down near Jim. "There. Now all the elements are -- well, except Spirit. I'm not sure what we'll do for..." She looked to the center of the circle, and nearly dropped the herbs in her hand. Their jaguar and wolf were sitting in the circle, looking better already. They were still off somehow, but there was a little improvement. "What are they, dear?"

"Howler and Prowler? Our spirit animals. Howler's mine, Prowler belongs to Jim." Blair reached in a little to rub his hand on Prowler's neck, and Jim did the same, muttering softly to them both in Quecha.

"Such cute names." Naomi bubbled happily. Blair could hear Jim's mental annoyance at essentially being called 'cute.'

 _Well, if it's any consolation, I think your ass is cute --_ Blair leered over at his lover, attempting to cheer him up.

"Sandburg!" Jim blurted loudly, making both of them stare at him, Naomi in shock, and Blair in aroused amusement. "Cut that out, Blair, or you'll mess this up." Jim sent the rest of his thoughts to him via their link. _I'm not sure how I know this, babe, but you need to take it seriously. No fucking around with this. It's really important._

"Alright, Jim. I'm sorry." He inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly. "Mom, you'll pull us out if it gets too bad? You know what I'm talking about. If there are any physical things going wrong. But -- " He paused, considering how to word what he had to say. "Naomi, I'll just say this bluntly. We're lovers, both here and in the spiritual realm, so if you see something that's more along those lines than -- " He blushed deeply not wanting to say more, but knowing he really had to make this clear. "I'm serious, man. If this includes some of that, it might get weird out here. And Howler and Prowler might do some weird things, too." He wasn't sure what they'd do, or what this required, but he wanted to be sure. "Promise me, Mom?"

"Oh, of course dear." He could see the slight tinge of pink on her cheeks. She might be a unique person, but Naomi Sandburg did not want to think about her baby boy being a sexual being, as much as she stridently -- affirmed to the contrary.

"Alright. The same grove, Jim?" He didn't elaborate any more, knowing that Jim understood what he was asking.

"That'd work, Sandburg." Blair looked at his mother with amusement, and caught her expression. She was confused about Jim calling his lover by his last name. And to add to that confusion the fact that it was her last name as well.

"Turn the music on, Naomi." Blair was already in Shaman mode, and was settling himself, centering himself. The centering process was very different now, with a second soul nearby, but he just drew Jim along with him easily. "C'mon, lover. Join me in the grove." He felt the smile on his face grow, and twist into something more than just the happiness he felt at Jim's kindness.

"Yes, sweetheart." The last thing Blair heard as he walked the path _between_ was the sound of the music his mother had picked out starting to play, thrumming through the air.

 

* * *

 

Jim followed Blair easily into the Jungle, and sat down beside him in the grove. He gazed over at Blair, his face warming as he remembered their last visit to this place.

"Stop that, Jim." Blair's words carried the force of an order, but they also carried the humor of understanding. "I don't think that's what's needed. If it was, I think our time outside should have sufficed. I think it's deeper."

"Deeper than that?" Jim scoffed a little bit at that thought. "How could anything get deeper than that, Chief? That was the most intense -- deepest, craziest experience of my life. If we're going to go deeper here, Einstein, it's gonna be ..."

"Okay. Wrong word maybe." Blair sounded frustrated. He snapped his fingers, and Jim reached over, putting a calming hand on his arm. "Okay. I know what we need to do, but not exactly ... _how_ we're gonna get there. Maybe the critters know?" He sounded so unsure, and Jim just wanted to reassure him. This was all so new to both of them.

As they were sitting there thinking about what needed to be done, a large predator bird flew down to them. Jim recognized it as one of the birds that had inhabited the area of the jungle were the Chopec lived. "Chief is that ... ?"

"Yeah, that's Incacha. Or at least his representation. He might have some better ideas. I don't think Howler and Prowler are going to be any help here." In fact, Jim wasn't sure they'd made the trip this time. Or if they did, they just weren't showing themselves.

"Enqueri." It was Incacha, or at least some form of him.

"My brother." The words came out in Quecha before he could censor himself.

"I am but a representation of he whom you have lost." Jim nodded. He'd kind of figured that part out by himself.

"Can you tell us what we need to do? We're at a bit of a loss here, Honored-Brother." The last word was a nickname, but it didn't translate well into English, at least in Jim's own mind.

"Walk backwards in each others' paths." Incacha gestured toward two paths, and it was obvious one was his, and one was Blair's.

"In each other's paths? Not our own?" He was confused. He could understand reflection and correction of misconceptions, but to share all of that with -- Oh. Well, maybe that was the point. They were still so separate. "Chief, this is not going to be fun." He grimaced, and turned toward his lover, holding him, kissing him gently for a long moment. It wasn't a kiss of passion, but of reassurance and exquisite care. He loved Blair. Loved him more than he had loved anyone else. And he hoped this wouldn't change that. Or change Blair's trusting love for him.

"Oh, man, Jim." Blair sighed, snuggling into his arms for just a moment. Then, the anthropologist turned toward the older Shaman. "We go at the same time? Or can we walk down the roads together? Or is it our choice? Time versus impact and all that..." His voice trailed off when Jim started slowly running his hand down Blair's back to calm him.

"You must walk them at the same time. You do not have the time to take each one separately. It will be -- a whirlwind trip -- as it is." The old man sounded unsure of the use of the idiom, but used it anyway.

"Oh, alright. That's true. We did give Naomi a time limit, didn't we?" Blair looked a bit frustrated at that. "Oh, well, probably safest." He sighed and looked between the paths. "Do we need to -- take anything?"

"No. Only an open mind." Blair chuckled at the man's response. It did sound like something Incacha would say, Jim realized. Or at least its Quecha equivalent.

"Alright. Jim, are you ready?" He extricated himself from Jim's arms reluctantly, after pressing a kiss to the side of his chin that made Jim shiver, and then moved to step onto the path that was clearly not his own.

"Not really, but the sooner this is over, the sooner we can be back to some semblance of normal, babe. Besides, we've already done the hardest part, I think. We've lived together for years." At Blair's snort, Jim shrugged. "I'm trying to be positive about this, Sandburg. Don't burst my bubble." He snorted himself, and moved toward the other path. "On three?"

"One, two, three." And they began walking forward. Or was it backward? Jim didn't know. Whichever it was, they walked down the paths.

The first part of the road was easy going. It was their union, felt from the other side. He shuddered at the feelings he'd evoked in the younger man when they'd fucked the first time here in the Jungle. He could feel the patterns on his skin, burning like a sunburn, but pleasant, warming. He grinned widely, and moved on. He saw Blair's thought processes as he chose to unite them, to save Jim's life, and Jim's heart swelled with an awe he hadn't felt for a very long time.

He walked through the mess with the diss. That was difficult, and he nearly had tears on his face from the pain and desolation Blair carried through that whole fucking situation. He understood how Blair felt caught, and when Jim could have supported him, could have _trusted_ him, or even -- fuck -- even listened to the man, instead, he pushed him away, locked him out, nearly killed him again. This time, instead of water, he nearly drowned in desperate loneliness. Jim never realized how much Blair had given up for him then, nor how much he'd been giving up for years. He was beginning to see. He steeled himself, and moved onward, eager to understand, and to heal some of this, if they could.

A darkness fell, and Jim started seeing all their cases through Blair's point of view. Some of them were very confusing to Blair, some of them had strong effects on the man. He slowed down as he got closer to the Barnes case, and took his time walking through that part. He wanted to understand what Blair had experienced. He felt the disappointment and frustration, how Blair was stuck between his loyalty to Jim and his training to find more than one subject to prove his point. He wasn't sure where that had come from, but he knew he'd find out. He fell into the fountain with Blair, experiencing the other side of that day. When Blair checked out AMA and joined Megan on the trip to Sierra Verde, Jim was amazed at the man's fortitude. He didn't know many soldiers -- Rangers included -- who would have gone on and followed through without explicit orders. And no one would have blamed them. But Blair just kept going, kept trying to protect Jim from the world, from a 'zone' -- from himself. He snorted. He was getting maudlin and sappy.

He saw himself through the years, saw how Sandburg thought of him. He saw what the senses really meant to Blair. They weren't his "brass ring", except that they were something he'd dreamed about, and hoped to learn about. Blair had never really expected to get his doctorate from the Sentinel thing. He hadn't thought that far. He'd used the idea to be able to balance this delicately set up stack of whirling plates, and never expected it to fall. He wrote about Jim and the senses because he loved to learn, loved to teach. It wasn't all beautiful and easy, of course. He saw the times Blair fell hard for a woman, or engaged in mutual enjoyment to find release from the stress of everything going on. He saw how that usually ended up with him hurt in more ways than one. He saw -- and felt -- every kidnapping, shooting, beating -- damn that kid got hurt a lot. He felt the hurt run through Blair every time Jim commanded him to stay in the truck, didn't trust his word, questioned his hunches or talked down to him like a child. He felt the vicious pleasure Blair experienced when Jim's own relationships fell apart, or when a well-placed barb struck home. He couldn't blame the kid, at least not any more than he could blame himself.

He felt the pain / pleasure rush as Jim threw him up against the wall. He felt the excitement the kid had felt when the nurse mentioned that she might've heard of someone in a similar situation. It surprised him how Blair had gone through several plans trying to meet this elusive man, and had only stumbled onto him after giving up. Jim shook his head. Fate really was a bitch, wasn't she?

Jim watched Blair's graduate and undergraduate years pass by in a whirl of classes, flings, study sessions and cram fests that left Jim wondering. Blair never took a summer off. When he began college at 16, he just kept going. There was no pause between. No time off to go spend with family or friends. No holidays at home. Nothing. When summer school wasn't in session, he was volunteering at a local tutoring center, getting some of the younger kids ready for classes again, or he was working three or four little jobs, trying to make enough to cover everything his grants and scholarships would not. Or, a few times, he was out of the country on an expedition with the Anthropology department, first as an assistant, a helper, and then as a student or TA.

When he got to high school, he was surprised. Blair hadn't spent much time in one place at all. He spent a few months -- maybe a quarter or a semester at a time -- in each place. He'd soak up whatever it was he was taught, and then would be pulled along to the next place, in a string of random moves that didn't seem to make any sense to Jim at all. Blair really had been to several different countries. Even more than he bragged about. Blair loved the experience. He loved being able to see through others' eyes. He loved learning everything he could from a place. It was like he realized very early on that he had to gather all his information quickly, and learned the best strategies to do so.

The downside to all of this, of course, was that he was rootless. College had given him the first focused goal he'd ever had. He'd grabbed ahold of it with both hands, and clung to it like a lifeline. He'd also felt like he was always on the outside. He wasn't the one people invited to visit. Instead, he'd wait to be noticed, or he'd find a way in, usually through his typical obfuscation or by making himself utterly invaluable to the people in power.

Naomi was there, sort of. Blair got left with friends, "relatives", neighbors, even a couple times with a strange family that Naomi had just felt were trustworthy. Jim could feel a sense of foreboding at that. As a policeman and former soldier, he'd learned quickly and harshly that not everyone who looked trustworthy really was. In fact, there was no real way to tell. Time and experience gave you a good general idea, but even that could get fucked over royally. He knew that. Lila. Victoria. Laura. Etcetera.

As he walked on, seeing Blair's younger years, he saw things around Blair that worried him. There was nothing that he would be able to arrest people for, unfortunately. However, in Blair's hearing, people would talk about things way above his age level in understanding and taste. Blair, being the genius he was, would pick up on it. If it wasn't something he could understand for social or developmental reasons, he'd store it away and remember it later. Blair's memory wasn't eidetic or photographic, but it was -- persistent. Things would pop up in his memory, and Jim would wonder where he'd heard them. He'd take two steps down the road, a couple years earlier, maybe, and there, there they'd be, falling out of the mouth of some ne'er-do-well who'd been asked to watch the cute little boy with the curly hair.

Blair had learned early to kiss ass. To say whatever it took to get enough attention to merit food, water, a bed -- there were a couple times the caretakers completely forgot about him, at least until Blair opened his mouth and started spinning his gold-covered shit again. Then, they'd all jump, feed him, bathe him, give him something to drink, and make sure Naomi's little boy was well taken care of. It was extremely hard to watch. Jim never considered himself a paternal type of person, and definitely not toward Sandburg, but he wanted to reach through the memories and draw the kid to himself. To protect him. Jim stretched his senses out during a few of the memories, past where Blair might've been able to hear or see, and cringed. There were a few things he could arrest for. Minor things like pot smoking and sales, petty thievery or fraud, but nothing seemed to get close to Blair himself.

The memories began to get hazier as he kept walking. He assumed it was because they were older, and Blair less mentally developed. It felt like walking through a museum and the lights were dimmed for effect. As a toddler and infant, Blair had had his mother's attention more merely because he needed it. At the very least, Naomi had started well, as far as Jim could tell. She would carry Blair in a brightly colored sling, holding him close to her chest, nursing him for much longer than most Americans seemed to. Jim wasn't fazed by this; he'd seen it enough in Peru. It was more of a tribal behavior. Then again, a lot of Naomi's behaviors were more tribal than "standard American." She just didn't keep to the same tribe. _And there's the rub._ Jim thought wryly.

He realized he had a shorter path to walk than Blair did -- and also that Blair would take his time learning, soaking things up as he went. So, he walked back the way he came, stopping to watch cute things Blair did, or memorizing faces of people who had hurt him, making a personal rap sheet. As he walked nearer to the grove, however, his focus turned to figuring out how he could supply some of the lack he'd seen, both from the weird, mobile childhood, and his own huge mistakes.

That took a fucking long time.

* * *

 

Blair bit his lip and walked slowly along the path. He was interested in Jim's memories, yes, but he was also as nervous as hell. He knew he'd messed up so many times and was afraid of what he'd see through Jim's eyes. It was one thing to do a personal history on someone through observations and conjecture from the outside; it was something entirely different to experience it through their eyes, through their body and their emotions. Blair was worried. However, he knew it had to be done. So, he took measured steps toward the goal.

Recent events made him smile. He saw himself spread out and naked on their bed, panting from exertion and passion, whining -- pleading for Jim to just _do_ something. He felt Jim's amused affection, and the curling deviousness that had led to the long, drawn out session between them. It made him shudder to be able to feel that so strongly. He'd felt hints of it through the bond before, but this was completely different. With a fond smile, he kept walking.

He felt the senses go haywire when they came together here the first time. The white fire intrigued him, but he had no point of reference to compare, so he filed it away, somewhere in the maelstrom that Jim labeled his mind. He saw Jim's internal need to walk through the steps that had led to the joining: the woad, the undressing, the Jungle itself. He didn't understand where the information came from, but it seemed to have worked, so he wasn't questioning it too harshly.

Just beyond that, Blair walked through the experience of getting shot. He'd been shot enough times himself through the years, but this was an entirely new experience. He could see the bullet rifle through the air -- bullet time, man -- and could see it headed straight for his chest. He felt Jim's concern and frustration at having forgotten a vest, his worry for Blair, and his annoyance at being shot _again_. He felt it as Jim bled out, how his last thoughts were for his family and for Blair, wishing he'd have done something to let people know how he felt about the young man. Even here, Blair was surprised. Their coupling wasn't completely brought on by the experience. It was just time. The opportunity was there, and the critters took it. Or took them kicking and screaming into it. The thought settled Blair's heart a little, and he walked on.

He watched through their recent cases, watched Jim use the senses, watched how things bothered him more than he realized. He watched himself help Jim cope, help him _conquer_ the obstacles life put in his way. He felt the internal nagging sense of worry that Blair would leave him high and dry. At this point, he had a vague idea of why Jim would feel that way, but he knew he'd have to watch and see for certain.

He felt the sharp, bitter broil that was Jim's state of mind during the diss crisis. Jim really had thought that Blair, like everyone else, was using him and intending to throw him away when he was done. He couldn't fault that. Blair had obfuscated and -- flat out lied (especially to himself) about the real reason he stuck around. Blair stuck around to stay with Jim, and probably would have done so had there been no opportunity to publish anything. He'd proven that now. But his heart ached to hear how Jim misunderstood and misconstrued his words until he was absolutely certain that Blair had intended to tell the world about him. Not just sentinels in general, but Jim Ellison in particular. He had heard Blair's protestations as more obfuscation, and Naomi became Blair's cat's-paw. In Jim's mind, Blair may not have intended to send off the current version of the paper, but he certainly intended to take full advantage while he could.

Blair walked on, tears rolling down his cheeks. He almost didn't want to see what had made Jim think he would do that. Further back, the cases of that year showed a deep rift between them, one that seemed to widen with each passing day. He felt Jim intentionally distancing himself from him, felt the deep guilt for getting him killed and felt this unwavering certainty that Jim knew he'd either hurt Blair irreparably, or Blair would continue to store all the negative emotions inside until eventually blowing and leaving for good. Neither sounded like a good option, so illogically, Jim decided to start pushing him away before he became so hurt he could not recover.

Jim also carried guilt from the Ventriss thing. _Damn, the man was a poster boy for a good Catholic sometimes._ Blair sighed and watched as Jim brushed him off, only to have Blair be proven right. When they arrested Brad, Jim took off for a while, and the thoughts running through his head were so self-deprecating and dangerous that Blair wanted to shout at him. However, he knew he couldn't be heard, so he just kept walking.

The Alex thing. Ugh. Blair was not looking forward to feeling this side of that situation. Thinking about his own experience was plenty bad. However, this was part of their shared history, so he tried to put on his "observer" hat and watch the scenes dispassionately to see what he could garner from them.

Yeah, right. He felt the instincts Jim was following to protect the Guide. However, there was an opposing instinct that Jim had never felt before. There was a push to force the Guide to choose. To allow the two Sentinels to prove themselves to him in a clear way. For Alex, being a female, that meant trying to woo him. Jim wanted to woo him, sort of, too, but couldn't push pass the primal urge to orchestrate some sort of showdown. The competing pressures mounted until he exploded, pushing Blair out, leading to the scene at the fountain. Blair felt the soul-deep rip when Jim realized Blair was dead. He saw Jim scrabble to him, insistent that he come back, despairing of losing his friend, his Guide, his partner... Blair's tears increased, and he reached up to wipe his nose on his sleeve. It was heartbreakingly horrible. He watched as Jim was nearly powerless to avoid doing those few things that he did. He realized that those things -- the kiss, the warning -- were the minor concessions he made to the instincts; they were the moments when he lost control. If Jim hadn't been as strong of a man as he was, the situation would have been far worse. Blair shuddered at the thought, processed for a few moments, and then moved on.

Their earlier years together seemed to speed past him, only pausing to emphasize specific strong emotions or situations that had affected him more than normal. For instance, the times his old flames had come into town, Blair watched the whole thing, feeling this ache to connect that had to come from Jim. He recognized it as something he himself had felt before. He'd buried it years ago. Blair allowed the tears to fall more freely. He watched as Jim punished himself for all the times that Blair got hurt, got kidnapped, had to break his own moral code...After a few moments, he inhaled sharply, and closed his eyes. "I just need a few minutes, guys." Uncertain of where to direct the request, he lowered his head, thinking. Maybe Prowler and Howler were controlling this, maybe it was someone completely different However, somehow, he knew that the movie had ... paused for him while he got his emotions under control. "Alright. Thanks." He looked up, and began watching again. It was nearing the fateful moment in the clinic when he'd lied, obfuscated, pushed and prodded to get involved with Jim's life. "What a ride, huh, boy?" Howler had come alongside him, and Blair snickered as he ran his hands through the wolf's hair. "Feeling better? I hope this -- fixes whatever's been messin' with you two." He sighed and kept on walking, Howler heeling beside him.

Blair watched as Jim's years in Vice sped by. He saw how good of a detective he was, felt how much the uncontrolled senses just _hurt_ , heard the way that various men and women tried to Guide him, but none of it seemed to work for long. "Was it fate, you think?" He addressed Howler who merely stood there with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, Blair chuckled softly, and kept going. "Right. No influencing the subject. Let him draw his own conclusions." Blair nodded, watching a particularly rough case. "Ohhhh." That's where Johnny the Hand came in. He frowned, wishing he could see a couple things again.

A suddent thought came to him, and he tried it. _If they're becoming part of me, then I only need to ... "remember" what I want to know._ He frowned, and tried it. Sure enough, he could see the memory again. _That will come in useful, I'm sure._ He shook his head and kept on walking.

He saw Jim go through an abbreviated version of the police academy. It was abbreviated because Jim already had more skills in many areas, and the classes would have been redundant. He saw how quickly Jim's mind really worked when he was trying to collect and collate information like local laws and police procedure. He saw the camaraderie Jim had with several of the other cadets, and smiled at some of their antics.

One scene in particular stood out during that time, though. Jim had run into his brother at the store, and Steven hadn't said too much to him. In hindsight, Blair could understand because Steven told them later that he was getting things for his wife for a midnight craving, and she had been very strident about not taking too long. However, Jim didn't know that. Blair felt the brush-off and understood how badly Steven's perceived rejection hurt. He sighed in understanding and followed Howler as he led him further down the path.

He watched Jim's very short-lived marriage to Carolyn. He felt like a voyeur watching them come together, connect and fight. He understood a good portion of what was happening, though. Part of it, a good part of it, he realized, was that he was still getting used to the senses and touching her could hurt. He had no clue why; it hadn't done so before when he'd met Caro before Peru. Now it hurt, and he thought he was doing something completely wrong. Never mind that it was the senses and zone-outs and overloads making him angry and sharp and sore. His nerves were adapting again to all the input, and that took time. Unfortunately, it was time he didn't have. Blair was glad he hadn't been in Jim's life then. He already had enough to deal with without that. He stopped himself after having that thought. _No. that was exactly the opposite of true._ Blair sighed, running his hand along his face. _I wish I could have been here, known him, even now. I wish I could have explained to him that it hurt because of his senses. That he wasn't going crazy. Even if it meant I would never have ... this. Whatever it is._

As he continued to walk backward, he watched Jim's time in Peru. He watched the senses come online and watched Incacha walk him gently through the process of using them, and giving him a way to deal with the zone-outs. Blair wished he could have a notebook beside him to take copious notes on his techniques, but he settled for watching intently, hearing and seeing Jim's reactions -- both internal and external -- as well as Incacha's methods. It would have to be enough.

He did wonder how he was able to see all this when Jim said he couldn't remember much of the time. Blair chalked it up to the fact that people did remember; they just consciously or subconsciously blocked certain things out of their minds. He wondered what had happened to make Jim forget this. It all looked pretty standard to him. However, the mind was a funny thing. He watched the scenes for a while, recording every nuance he could from Incacha's language and movements, and wondered how much was personality, how much was culture, and how much was pure "Guide". Was it even possible to separate those three things from the equation? He'd have to do a bunch of thinking on the subject, and possibly a few field tests. Talk to some others who have that specificity in their fields....

Howler pushed him further along on the path and Blair could only laugh.

He watched Jim's military years with the same detachment and professional interest he'd watch any new culture. It was the easiest way to handle it. That way, he had more of a chance of discovering more than if he walked in with his preconceived ideas. He felt Jim's emotions get pushed deeper and his resolve harden throughout the years. Every secret mission, every operation, every moment. He felt the terror Jim felt when he lost a man, the grief and pain and guilt each loss brought. He felt the confidence and satisfaction of each properly completed mission. He felt the horror and shame when an op went wrong. He heard the lingo -- very much its own language -- and weighed it against some of the things Jim had said to him through the years. It shed some light on some things, but there were still glaring things that Blair did not understand. So, he sighed, and just kept walking into the past.

He watched with a sad empathy as William Ellison raised his sons. There was a forced competition between the two boys that struck Blair to the core. He watched as Jim's dad found the stimuli to keep them at each others' throats, and yanked on the appropriate thread almost daily. Blair winced as he watched it happen. It lessened as he walked further into the past, naturally, but it still explained a lot. He felt Jim's thoughts of inadequacy and his pushing to make his father pay attention to him personally for something other than fulfilling his crazy expectations. He watched the situation with Bud and the murder, and felt the senses shut down almost immediately after that, after his father refused to allow them to be seen. It was a self-preservationist instinct. Jim was protecting himself. Trying his hardest to keep sane and safe in a world with fire and order and demands.... Blair sighed, ran his hand through his hair, and just kept going.

He got to the point where Grace died, and watched the scene. The environment around him was starting to blur a little: the obvious effects of immaturity on memory. He didn't know how he knew that, but it was right. He felt Jim using his senses even from a very small age, and being encouraged to do so by his mother. He had often wondered if his mother had been another Sentinel, but it appeared that she herself was a Guide. Maybe the Sentinel genes came from William's side, or maybe some relative of Grace's that they didn't know. Either way, Blair was fascinated at the way Grace handled the young boy. She praised his achievements and laughed at his childlike declarations while still affirming their truth. She knew they were true; he saw her confirm them several times, looking baffled, but taking it in stride. He smiled. Grace Ellison was a wonderful woman, and Blair wished sincerely that she'd have lived longer to Guide him through some of these harder times.

When the memories became mere sound and color, indistinguishable as real events, Blair stopped, ran his hand through his hair again, and looked down to see where Howler would lead him next. The spirit animal stood stone still, watching Blair with a wary gaze. "C'mon, fuzzybuns. If I know Jim, he's sitting back in the grove already stressing about what he's seen. Let's go find out what we need to do to assimilate all this in real time." With another fierce exhalation of breath, Blair began the trek back toward his mate.


	9. Chapter 9

Jim sat on the ground drawing idly in the dirt. Even though the area was a "jungle", if they needed to, he and Blair could find nearly any kind of vegetation. He drew the symbols that he'd painted onto Blair's body, trying to remember where he'd seen them before. It was an easier puzzle to contemplate than the swirling mass of memories he had just seen. He understood his lover much more than he ever thought he would, but part of what he saw had worried him. He saw Blair's core and all the worries and stresses and needs... and his Blessed Protector instinct wanted to fish out each one of them one by one, fix them, and make Blair as safe and happy as he possibly could. The realistic military-trained man in him knew that was impossible. It was like seeing a hill, but every time he tried walking toward it, the hill would move away. _Fucking mirage._ he cursed to himself, remember when that had actually happened in a desert.

Incacha's doppelganger stood in front of him again, arms across his chest. "Enqueri. It is not like you to brood."

Jim snorted. "Brother, it is _very_ like me to brood. Just ask Blair." He continued to draw for a few minutes as he waited for Blair to return, wondering if the apparition had more to say.

"It did not used to be so, my brother." Jim nodded. The man had a point.

"Very true." He used a colloquialism in Quechua that was a common affirmation. A little more than a simple "yes", but not the strongest the language carried. "I was thinking about how I could help Blair. He's been hurt so many times that ... " He sighed. "Many times by me. I hate that I've hurt him so much."

"The pain between friends is like the flowers that float on the river. Swiftly gone, but long remembered. And difficult to pin down. Your friendship with Blair is the river, Enqueri. Now, it is even more like. Water for the thirsty, travel for the shore-bound and merchant, and sky-feeder. Life giver. Without this, you would have died long before the bond. You know this." Incacha thumped his chest with his hand. "It is not a new idea. Prepare. He comes."

Jim frowned, and wondered what he should do to 'prepare' for Blair's arrival. He looked around and found some more of the woad-like plant on the ground. Smashing the flowers in his hand to make a paste, he began to draw designs on himself according to a similar pattern. It was a complementary glyph to the one he'd painted on Blair's body that night. He thought he understood. There was a quiet acceptance that this would change them irrevocably. When he'd finished with that, he got up, standing at attention to wait for his lover's return.

Blair strode into the clearing, eyes bloodshot from crying. _Damn._ Jim tried to think that deeply enough that his lover couldn't hear. He fought the impulse to gather the man in his arms and comfort him, realizing that there was more going on than he could see.

"I am here." His voice rang out in a nearly ritual tone. Perhaps it was. "For now and for always. To protect you from those who would --" He tried to think about what he'd seen, putting how he felt into words that seemed to flow from the center of his soul. "Those who would forget you until they need you. At times, I have been one, and for that, I ask your forgiveness. I am here." He repeated the phrase, and then realized he had more to add. "I am here to remind you that your life is more than just the sum of your experiences plastered out on a page for others to Guide their lives by. I also have been guilty of this. For this, I also ask forgiveness. I am here -- to love you with my words, touch and deeds, caring for your needs both internal and external, giving you space when you need, and getting in your face when you need. For all of this, and whatever else life requires of me, I am here." With that, he fell into parade rest, waiting for Blair to speak.

Blair inhaled sharply, his expression schooled into one Jim had come to label "Shaman." He understood. For some reason, they weren't hearing each other right now. Whether that was this moment or this place in general, Jim wasn't sure. Either way, it was both unsettling and a relief. Maybe this was another step of the commitment, another moment of choice before they were sent out to be the team they needed to be to protect the city. "I am here. For now and for always." He began with the same words. "I am here to protect you from excessive and unnecessary competition, to show you the value of your innermost thoughts and emotions, even when the world around us screams otherwise. I have ignored those many times. And for that, I ask forgiveness." Blair's voice sounded a little shaky, but he was continuing on. "I am here to give you relief from the angry world, from the 'front-lines' of protection, from the thin line you walk as soldier and Sentinel. I am here to reaffirm your trust in the human race when no one else will. I have not been very trustworthy in the past, and for that, I also ask forgiveness. I am here to love you explicitly and deeply so that your empty places are no longer empty. For all of this, and for whatever else life requires, I am here."

When Blair finished speaking, Jim could allow himself to gaze completely at his lover, and saw the tear tracks on his cheeks. "Oh, Chief." He sighed, breaking formation and stepping over to wipe them away. He felt a frisson of surprise when Blair did the same, running a thumb along his cheeks, finding a little wetness, too. "Time to go home? She's gonna call soon, I bet, and -- and I wanna hold you." He snorted, hating how sappy that sounded, but not recanting the sentiment.

"Yeah, Big Guy, me too. Let's --" Blair was just about to start to pull them back when the voice of their mentor spoke up.

"There is one more thing. Your words have asked for something from each other, but it was not given. To leave at this point would stop the process mid-way and that would be detrimental to you both. It would be like leaving a bandage on halfway."

Jim winced at the thought of a band-aid stuck on only half way. _Yeouch._ He stood there for a long moment, uncertain of what to do next.

* * *

 

Blair winced at Incacha's simile. "Ouch, man. Yeah. That's not good." He ran his thoughts over the words they'd spoken, trying to find what the man was talking about. "Duh." He grinned up at his lover, moving to embrace him closely. "I forgive you, man. I can understand why you felt the way you did, and why you assumed I'd be doing things for my own gain. I know it won't be completely roses and wine, but we're good, Jim." He gave Jim a soft kiss on the cheek, then stepped back, waiting.

"Fine." Jim's voice carried a little of the snark Blair was used to. He was sure that Jim hated this part, but it was pretty important. "Sandburg, I forgive you. I can understand why you acted the way you did. You drive me crazy sometimes, but seeing what I did ... I know why you do the crazy things you do. I -- I know you'll still drive me crazy, but I can deal with it, especially if we're working as closely together as I think we will. We're good, Blair. We're good." He didn't kiss Blair on the cheek, but wrapped him tightly in his arms, sighing at the contact. "That -- that fixed something, I think. Like a wall sliding into place. You know?"

"Yeah, man." Blair did know. He shifted in Jim's arms so that he could nuzzle the man's neck. "I wish we could ... " He let his sentence trail off, since it was pretty damn obvious what he was thinking.

"Is there a reason why we can't?" Jim wondered aloud, and Blair had to smile at his eagerness.

"I should say so." Incacha's form replied. "There are two major reasons why you must wait. The first -- " He held up a single finger. "Naomi." Both men groaned loudly at remembering the woman marking time and promising to pull them out from their trance. "The second is a little less obvious." Blair turned, pressing his side into Jim's body, relishing the contact. It allowed him to remain close and still see the avatar of his friend. "Right now, should you connect so soon in this world, you would burn up and not return home. There is a time and a place for this place to be used in that manner. Shaman, you know." Blair gave a small nod, attempting to avoid hitting Jim with his head.

"Yeah. I know. We need to go. But -- damn. It would've been nice." Blair grinned. "C'mon, Big Guy. Maybe we can send Naomi shopping for a while or something. She understands the power of ritual, and we'll explain it like that."

"Only you, Chief." Jim grumped good-naturedly. But he replied, pulling on a nearby curl lightly. "Sounds like a plan." He switched to Quecha, and gave the formal thank-you that a tribesman gave the Shaman. Blair recognized that much. Inaccha's reply was in kind, and Blair closed his eyes in preparation for drawing them back toward the real world.

* * *

 

They landed softly back in their separate places in the ritual circle. "Mom, thank you so much for your help." Blair looked up and smiled at his mother shyly. He tested out the connection between himself and his lover again, pulling on the thread between them to see if it felt different.

"Don't do that, Chief. It feels weird." Jim reached up, batting at his ear as though a fly were buzzing around his head. Blair could only laugh, and stood up from the circle slowly, brushing the remnants of the Jungle off himself as he went.

"Hey, Mom, could we get you to run a couple errands for us? We've got some more of the ritual left to do, and this part doesn't need witnesses." He was pretty sure his lame excuse was completely transparent, but the need was growing inside him -- not just to fuck his lover into their mattress, but to do a basic physical connection and examination. He was feeling almost as possessive as Jim did at times.

"Oh." Yeah. The tone of voice Naomi used pretty much guaranteed she wasn't fooled by his words. "Oh. I think I could do that. Or I could just go visit the herb shop for a couple of hours. They're having a seminar on alternative medicine that looked intriguing."

"Thank you Naomi." Jim's gratefulness sounded only slightly forced. Hey. It was an improvement. Blair smiled, moved over to give his mother a hug and kiss, and then moved to where Jim was just barely standing up himself. He brushed the little bits of 'blue' off his lover and stepped into Jim's embrace easily.

 _Was that better? I mean, when I gave Naomi a hug? You didn't growl._ Blair flashed his grin up at Jim.

 _Better, yeah. I still want to keep you right **here,** my little Guppy, but it's not this instinctive need anymore._ Blair felt Jim's arms tighten around his body possessively.

Blair barely registered the door shutting again as they turned together toward the stairs.


	10. Chapter 10

Jim awoke in his bed to two very strange sensations. One was the curly hair in his face. He'd gotten used to that; in fact, he'd gotten to the point where if it wasn't there, he'd worry. The second sensation was really weird. It was a light touch on his skin, but it somehow bypassed his nerves and went straight into his soul. He opened his eyes and looked out and groaned.

"Prowler, Buddy, that feels strange." The Quecha for 'strange' was a bit strange in and of itself. Jim chuckled. "You're feeling better, I take it?" He shifted to be able to reach the spirit animal, petting him as he continued to lick at Jim's exposed skin. Jim couldn't help it, he giggled.

 _Whu-what?_ Blair stirred beside him. _Are you_ "Giggling, Jim?" He yawned, and opened his eyes, looking up into Jim's. Jim's breath caught, or tried to, as he attempted to stop laughing.

 _God, you're beautiful, Chief._ "I don't giggle, Sandburg. But -- " He laughed again as Prowler lowered his head and nuzzled his skin again. _Prowler's licking me._

Blair chuckled, cheeks flushing at the look and at Jim's compliment, he figured. _You're pretty hot yourself, Big Guy._ He flashed his eyes up at him again, and then looked back down more embarrassed.

Jim couldn't have that. He leaned in, turned a little, stopping to mutter something in Quecha to Prowler that made him move off his legs and snuggle on the outside of them, and then he leaned in for a slow, leisurely kiss. _It's nice to be able to do this, Romeo. And not have it turn that switch, or whatever. That was a little frightening._ It was one thing to spend good quality time with your lover. It was something else entirely to have trouble pulling your dick out of his ass long enough to clean it and use it to piss.

 _Oh, I know, man. This is much nicer. And we can go back to work soon._ Blair ran his hands down Jim's chest, in a soothing way, and the two of them lay there for a long few minutes just enjoying their kisses.

 _Yeah. Love you, Sandburg, but I miss catching the bad guys. And..._ He couldn't even _think_ of the possibility that he could finally catch John Sampson. But still, even though he couldn't consciously believe it could happen, the thought was there. He could finally avenge Davey and get that bastard off his streets. _That's why I love being a cop._ He realized his thoughts were completely transparent to Blair, but at this point, he didn't care. Blair knew all his secrets anyway. He pulled away from the kisses for a moment, and looked over at the other man, catching his eye. "Did -- what was it like walking through all my crap, Blair?"

"Oh, man. It was pretty amazing, Jim. I mean, getting to see all that through your eyes. It helped me understand so much. I don't get everything, yet, I'm not completely omniscient, but it really helped. And I found out I can remember all of it just by focusing on it. Including your time in Peru that you said you couldn't remember very well. I'm gonna have to take some time and walk through that part slowly, and see what all Incacha did. I might find something that I can help you with. Something he did that we're not doing..."

Jim stroked his hand against his lover's skin, stopping him from rambling so much. "It's okay, Chief. I understand." He made no move to return the favor, knowing Blair wanted at least a hint of normalcy. So, he let the man ask for himself.

And ask he did. "And, was it really bad seeing all the -- " Blair sounded so uncomfortable, so unsure. Jim heard and felt the hesitation, the worry and stress of having all that visible to someone, even if it was necessary and reciprocated.

"It was fine, Chief. I wanted to strangle some people, especially when they'd forget you were around, but then, you'd open your mouth, spin gold like that fairy tale, and they'd remember." His heart ached with the memory.

"Yeah, I had to." Blair winced just thinking about it.

Jim nodded, lowering his head to kiss Sandburg's skin with light, careful kisses that tickled his skin. He could feel the shivering, and inside his mind, there was this background music kind of like Keystone Cops or something. The kind clowns use when they're scurrying around the rings, messing everything up. Jim chuckled. _That's really cute, Sandburg._ He sent an audio clip over into Blair's maelstrom, realizing he didn't feel nauseous anymore. In fact, he could step right into the winds. So, he did, just to see what would happen.

 _Hello, lover._ Blair grinned, seeming to envelop him in the warm winds. _I have full control over here, just like you have control in your library._

 _What happens if you get mad? Like if I say, **Brad Ventriss?**_ Jim knew he was treading on dangerous ground. He didn't care.

"Do _not_ mention that bastard's name around me, Jim." Blair snarled. The winds inside his head became a tornado, complete with rocks, ice chips and sand, blasting Jim's skin.

"Well, that explains that." Jim shuddered, sending his mental avatar back into the safety of his library. "Ouch." He winced, looking down at his skin, utterly surprised not to see bloody marks there. Howler came up to him, licking his arm where the winds had made him bleed. "Star stuff, huh?" He had remembered Naomi telling Blair that one time.

"Star stuff. Yeah." Blair calmed down, and then angled to face Jim completely. "You got me mad on purpose?" He snorted. "God, Jim! What if I'd hurt you? Like really hurt you?" He reached over, pushed Howler out of the way, and sighed, kissing the skin Howler had just been licking. "That's not something you should mess around with, Jim. I'm serious. It might not look real, but it's almost _more_ real than this stuff here." He tugged a little on Jim's arm hair, causing Jim to yelp. "I'm dead serious, Jim."

"Okay, Sandburg. I got it. I'm sorry." Jim echoed his contrition both audibly and mentally. "I won't mess with the star stuff again. I don't want to hurt myself or you in any way, either physical or otherwise."

"Good." Having settled that, Blair leaned to kiss him again.

* * *

 

Blair kissed Jim for a few minutes, enjoying the long, slow kisses. After a while, though, his need to urinate made itself known, and he reluctantly pulled away. "We need to eat, big guy, and then we need to figure out how we're gonna deal with real life. Maybe we could go for a walk, or something?" Blair frowned. "Or, we could go out somewhere? That Indian place?"

"Yeah, Chief, it might be a good idea to get out of this house." _Much as I've liked being in it with you._ That was the first layer of response, Blair noticed. _Or, well, being in you in it._ That was the second. Blair chuckled, and moved to dress to go downstairs.

"Give me a chance to pee and we can go, Jim." He grinned at the humorous thoughts coming through at the moment.

 _More than I really needed to know, Sandburg._ Jim grinned, and Blair could hear the sounds of the jungle in his mind. That was the happiest place he had.

He had to duck his head in happy embarrassment. _Man. We really do have it bad, don't we Jim?_

 _Yes, Romeo, we do. But, nothing wrong with that._ "Do you want to try to include Naomi?"

 _Damn._ He'd forgotten all about his mother. _Well, turn about is fair play, I suppose._ He mused wryly. "I suppose I could call her and see if she wants to join us. Did we decide that the Indian place sounded good?"

"Sounds fine to me, Chief." Jim held up his button-down shirt, holding it out for him to slide into. "Now, go take your piss and let's get going."

"Jim!" Blair's voice went up at Jim's crass remark, but he chuckled the whole way down stairs.

He finished up quickly, put on his socks and shoes, brushed his pick through his hair and pulled it back, and grabbed his glasses. "Ready to go, Jim?"

"Yeah, Sandburg." Jim called, clearly finishing up his own preparations. "Go ahead and call your mother, Chief. If she wants, she can meet us there?"

"Alright." Blair called, talking quickly to her, finding out what she was doing, and getting a cheerful affirmative from her. He made sure she knew which restaurant they were going to, and hung up. "I'll go get the truck started, Jim." _I'll slide over when you get there, don't worry. I know how you feel about me driving your baby._

"Thanks, Blair." _Didn't realize I was so protective of something so ..._ Jim sounded like he was discovering something unpleasant about himself. _So unimportant. It's a **truck** , for God's sake. Damn, I have some seriously messed up priorities, don't I?_ He sounded aware that he was sharing. Made sense. They were settling into this.

 _I understand why, Jim._ He flashed a memory or two at him to prove his point. _But it's nice for you to realize and we'll figure it out. I'm sure lots of things will change for the both of us._ He stepped out the door, shut it behind him, and walked, whistling down the stairs to the truck. About halfway there, however, he felt a hard whack to his skull, and the world went dark.

* * *

 

Jim was contemplating the memories Blair had shown him, realizing how much they impacted him, also half-heartedly listening to Blair whistling a tune as he walked downstairs. He finished closing everything down around him, grabbing his mobile phone and his keys, then stepped out the door, locking it behind him. He headed toward the elevator, then thought better of it.

All of a sudden, he felt the alarm that meant Blair was in pain, and then -- nothing. Nothing from the other half of his mind. Nothing from his soulmate. There was a deep rip forming and it hurt like fucking hell. He grabbed his phone, dialed Simon's number on autopilot, and got as far as Simon barking "Banks!" in his ear before he whispered painfully, "Simon, help!" and then, passed out himself.


	11. Chapter 11

Simon sat, relaxing in his recliner, smoking his cigar. It was Sunday evening, and life was good. He puffed out a ring of smoke, and watched the stupidity playing across his television screen. He wasn't even sure which show was on. He'd turned it on to watch his favorite show, and left it running when it was over. He was just considering getting up to get some more snacks and beer when his mobile rang. "Banks!" Whoever was calling him on a Sunday night better have an emergency, or there would be hell to pay.

The voice on the line was Jim, and he sounded in pain. "Simon, help!" That was all he heard before he heard a loud 'thunk' and then the sound of the dial tone.

"Shit!" He swore, levered the seat down, stood up to get ready to go, and growled. He'd already had a couple beers, and was in no shape to drive. "Dammit!" He hated doing this, because her driving was a pain in the ass, but it was the only option now. He punched a number into his phone, and waited for Megan to pick up.

"Connor here." Her no-nonsense voice was a relief. Maybe they could figure out what was going on.

"Connor, it's Banks. You good to drive?" He continued to move around the living room, preparing to leave, finding his gun and badge.

"Captain! Yeah, I'm taxi free tonight. Lucky you, mate. What's goin' on?" She sounded like she'd been asleep.

"I wake you up?"

"Naw, Captain. Just watchin' the telly. You're at home, eh?"

"Yeah. Come get me. Something's up with our lovebirds." That was enough. He could hear her swearing in the background.

"On my way, Captain." She hung up, and he strode a little unsteadily toward the door.

It didn't take that long for Megan to show up. "I called Rafe and H, and they'll meet us at the boys' house. That's probably the first place to look, right?

"Good thinking, Connor. Let's get over there." Would this have been any other cop, he'd have said, 'And step on it!' But with Connor -- and Ellison, he allowed -- that was a given.

Sure enough, in about a quarter of the time he would have taken, they found themselves over on Prospect Street. True, it was Sunday night, and traffic was basically nil, so that accounted for a good portion of their expedience. However, Megan's driving was the rest. He chuckled quietly as he got out of the car. "Connor, you look around here and wait for H and Rafe. I'll head up and see if one or the both of them is up there. They might not want you to know..."

"Oh, I know all about the _special circumstances_ , Simon. That little shopping trip we went on was extremely enlightening." Megan's smirk was annoying, but he understood why she was smiling like that. It was pretty unbelievable.

"Well, shit. Okay, then, we'll reverse roles. You go up and see if you can see either one of them, and I'll wait for the Wonder Twins." He rolled his eyes at his officers' antics, and the stress they put him under. _Hell._ He was going to have an ulcer by the end of the year.

Megan nodded her acquiescence and hurried up to the third floor to see what she could see. Five minutes later, she called him. "Simon, Ellison's here but he's unresponsive. He feels fine, no fever, no obvious injuries..." She sounded worried. "Should I see about bringing him down? Or should I get him back inside the house?"

"No, don't bring him down here until we know what's going on." He sighed. "No sign of the kid? Go ahead and use Jim's key to let yourself inside the house, Connor, and see if the kid is inside. If not, we've got a serious problem on our hands." He muttered more imprecations to himself, not really caring if Megan heard. They all knew him.

"Got it, Captain." She hung up and got back to work, hopefully to do exactly what he asked her to do.

* * *

 

Blair woke up, and looked around. _Ugh. I hurt._ He tried to see where he was, but couldn't. It was a dark room with metal walls. _Of course. A warehouse. Or something like it._ He sighed and pulled on the mental chain that connected himself with his lover. _Jim? Jim, are you here with me?_ He panicked for a moment when he realized that he couldn't feel Jim. He wasn't there. Then, reason began to take hold. _They knocked me out. So, maybe they knocked him out, too. Or, maybe it was a side effect of my unconsciousness. God, I hope not._ He tried to move, but discovered that he was tied to a chair. _Oh, brother. Could they get any less original?_ He started to recount to himself all the different times he'd been stuck tied to a chair. Then, reason intervened again, and he chuckled to himself again. _Don't do that, Sandburg. You'll be here all day, at this rate._

He felt a groggy awakening near him, but knew Jim wasn't anywhere physically nearby. _Blair? Sandburg? Chief? You there? Blair?_ Jim was frantic. He was pushing out all his senses almost automatically, Blair knew, trying to find him.

"Jim." He spoke aloud, hoping it wouldn't draw too much attention to himself. Just that one name. _Jim. Babe. Big Guy. I'm fine. I'm not near you, so don't try to find me with your senses. I can tell you are. Someone whacked me in the head, and I'm in a warehouse, tied to a chair._ He sent all the information he had about his location and situation to his lover, hoping it would help. _I think it might be somewhere near where we were checking out. We must've been a little too nosy._

 _Oh, Blair. You're alright. I was so scared._ This clearly embarrassed him. _Simon, Megan, H and Rafe are here. Should we start where Megan took us the other day?_

 _Might be a good start. I have no clue where I am, except that it's a warehouse. I mean, c'mon. That's like 'criminal standard', Jim! How many times have we been through this? Kidnap the weak one, take him to a warehouse, and tie him to a fucking chair!_

He could hear Jim laughing, and then, miracle of miracles, he heard Simon asking Jim what was so funny. Jim explained, and they all had a quick guffaw at his humor. It made him feel a little better. They were still connected. Still sane. They'd get through this. He could do anything with Jim by his side. _Sappy, I know, Big Guy, but true. We've been through everything together. We'll get through this._

There was a mental snort, and Blair could almost see the grin. _Just keep tellin' yourself that, Lewis._ But deeper yet, Blair heard Jim's soul-deep sentiment. _You're right, man. We're an amazing team, and I'm lucky to have you, Sandburg. Damn lucky._

Blair ducked his head and blushed, hoping to hell this wasn't being recorded or watched. For the moment, he felt alone, though he knew that would change pretty quickly. _I'm the lucky one,_ his subconscious echoed, getting more sappy as he waited. To make up for it, he schooled his mind, and focused back on the task at hand. Yeah, go ahead and start at that warehouse, and work your way around. I'll sing off-key to try to annoy them, get them to move in, and alert you at the same time. I won't start until you get here though. That way, maybe their movement'll draw your attention, too.

 _Be careful, Sandburg. You know who this might be._ Jim sounded worried.

 _Yeah. The Dread Pirate Roberts. "There will be no survivors."_ He tried to make a joke.

 _Dammit, Sandburg! Don't even joke about this. If I lost you... I'd just stay in the darkness, and fade away myself. You know that, right?_

Blair immediately felt bad for teasing his Blessed Protector. _I'm sorry, Jim. I know. The reverse is true, too. So, be damn careful about the rescue._

 _Do my best, Blair._ And then, Jim's presence faded away to a soft backdrop, still there, still near enough to touch with his own, but not as focused at him. It was very comforting, and Blair stepped into the Library to follow what was going on, and to feel the warmth of their connection more closely.

* * *

 

Jim turned to Henri and Rafe. "Listen." He winced, trying to figure out how to explain this crazy situation to them. "Listen. I'm in contact with Blair, but I can't explain how yet. Let's get him out of trouble, and then I'll answer any questions you have." A snort from Connor made him rephrase that. "To a point, Connor. Don't go there." He shook his head, and grumbled under his breath at the situation. "Okay." He clapped his hands together once, then rubbed them together a few times, in a gesture meant to focus them all. "He's in a warehouse of some kind, and he's tied to a chair. Connor, he _thinks_ he's close to where we were the other day, which gives me hope we might actually accomplish..." He wouldn't go there yet, but Megan and Simon gave him knowing looks.

"Don't count your chooks before they hatch, there, Jimbo." Megan grinned, and waggled her eyebrows at him.

"Yeah, whatever, Connor. I'm just sayin', if that really was one of his guys, then maybe ..." Jim shook his head at his coworker's strange sense of humor.

"Oh, I get it mate. And I hope you're right for your sake. And for Sandy's." She pursed her lips.

Rafe and Henri still looked lost. Simon took pity on them. "They think it's connected to Johnny the Hand." The information made both of them nod in understanding. They knew of Jim's hatred of Sampson.

"What about your animal thingys, Jim?" Simon asked, frowning. Jim was surprised that Simon would bring up the totem-brats until he saw the pinched look on Simon's face. "After all, Prowler found me, right?" It was pretty clear he was hating having to mention this at all, but it was necessary.

"Right, Simon. I'll have to ask them though. They may not know the whole area as well as they did there. Home-field advantage and all that jazz." Jim sat down on his couch, and looked up at the three confused faces. "Okay. I guess I'll have to explain this part to you. Or it won't make any sense at all, and I don't want you to freak out, if they do decide to help."

He inhaled. _Blair, I'm going to have to explain a little more to Rafe and H than I expected at this point. Simon brought up using the fuzzballs to find you. Do you mind?_ The reply he got back was quick, and warm, like Blair was snuggled right beside him. He took a quick inward look, and found him perusing the books in the library. He stifled a quick laugh. _Only you, Sandburg._

 _Hey, this stuff is fascinating. Um, well, they were on our list, weren't they? Naomi, William, Steve, Simon, Megan and those two. That's the list, right?_

 _Right. I'd mentioned them, but I wasn't sure you agreed._ Jim nudged a drawer out a little to tap Blair's avatar in the rump.

 _Jim!_ Blair's warm laugh eased something in his soul. They'd get through this. _If I had any problems with the list, Jim, I'd have said so when you mentioned it, or at least by now. I think it's pretty much inevitable. For H, mention Hatian totems and voodoo. For Rafe, mention the white lion in Venda. I can explain the rest when we get me out of here._

Jim nodded, forgetting that his lover wasn't right beside him. When he did remember, he smiled widely. _Alright, Chief. I'll tell 'em_ He shifted in his seat, attempting to hide the flushed smile of pleasure on his face, and then gave it up as useless. "Okay. So, Sandburg has a way of explaining this to the two of you..." He nodded toward H and Rafe, "that makes sense. Simon knows, and Connor, just take it as another layer on top of the crazy. Alright?" He quirked his brows at her, hoping for an acquiescence.

"More? There's more to this than what you already let on?" Megan snorted. "As long as you keep it pertinent. I don't want to hear about anything ... I don't need to hear about. I already need the brain bleach, Jimbo."

"Shut up, Connor." Jim replied, good-naturedly. "Yeah, it's not quite the same as the other stuff, but it does fit with it." Now the other two detectives were really looking confused.

"Rafe, Blair says to think about the white lion in Venda. This is kind of like that." Understanding crossed the man's face, and he nodded.

"Gotcha Jim. Spirity and the like." His face became very serious.

 _Damn, Sandburg. You're good._ This slipped out before he had the chance to censor it much. He felt a pleased embarrassment that sounded like a quiet instrumental tune like they played in elevators. It was just content. "And H, he says for you, think about voodoo totems."

"Oh, right. Gotcha."

"You know about Blair's diss and how he got booed out of his job and degree and the whole thing, right?" They nodded. "Well, he was telling the truth _before_ the press conference. He lied to save my ass." He winced, and felt a pang of guilt and pain in his chest that nearly undid him.

"Jimbo, you alright?" Megan was watching him intently.

"Yeah, Connor. Just ... rough talking about this part. Memories." He tried to give a stupid smile, but it came out more like a grimace. _Fuckitall._

 _You're doin' great, Big Guy. We knew this was going to be rough._ The encouragement from his mate helped, and he continued.

"Well, part of the whole Sentinel thing -- yes, I am a Sentinel, and Blair is my Guide -- is that we have this link to -- what would you call it, Simon? The Otherworld? The creepy places of the world?"

It was Henri who spoke up. "The mists, man. Where the spirits dwell." His voice carried a tone of awe that Jim hadn't heard before.

"Good as anything. I'm sure Sandburg could give you a million names for the place. For us, it's the Blue Jungle." They all nodded, even Simon, even though he'd heard this part already. "Well, when we went there the first time, that first time we lost Simon in Peru -- you weren't with us yet, Connor. Drug lords took Simon and Daryl and we had to get them back. My senses were on the fritz, so I couldn't use them to find them." She gave a sharp nod of understanding, gesturing for Jim to continue. "I followed a jaguar to find him. Not a regular jaguar, though."

"Just bring them out, if they'll come, Ellison. We're wasting precious time." Simon barked impatiently.

"Oh, alright, Captain." It was near enough an order that Jim followed it without too much questioning. In the back of his mind, he could feel the intrigued amusement at his automatic response to a barked order. He snickered a little, and shook his head when they gave him questioning glances. He closed his eyes, and then called out in Quecha. "Howler? Prowler? You mind showing up? Gonna need you to find Blair soon, and we've got tribe here to meet." He wasn't sure they'd all appreciate being labeled 'tribe', but in Quecha, it was the easiest construct to use.

"Jim?" Megan tilted her head.

"Peruvian tribal language, Connor. Jim automatically talks to them in the language of their home. And I do know it's automatic, because when you woke up in the hospital, you were muttering to them instead of me before we figured out what to do." Simon had pulled a cigar out, and was pointing it at Jim, shaking it for emphasis.

"Alright, Simon. Yes. I do slip into Quecha when I talk to the fuzzballs." And he proved the point by doing just that. "C'mon, Furballs. I know you don't like people to see you, but it's kind of an emergency. Come out if you can. Please?" And then, he saw them curled up in the corner. "Stop monkeying around, you two. Blair's in trouble." That at least got Howler's attention. He howled loudly, and stepped out from his cuddle pile with his -- mate? Weird. Whatever worked.

"Holy shit, Jimbo. Is that a wolf?" Megan started to stand and back up.

"What's protocol, Jim? My Gran'mere used to make us sacrifice chickens to anything like this. Or would if they would've shown up." Henri stood up, uncertain, yet unafraid.

"They're basic totem animals. Spirit representations of myself and Blair. This one's Blair's. His name is Howler. He sheds." Jim grinned widely at the last bit. "As for how to treat them, just ... let them do their jobs, I guess. They get very protective of Blair and I, and can affect ... anything from the mists. So like ... souls and stuff." He sighed. "I wish Sandburg were here, because he'd explain it a lot better. They're us, but they're not. Naomi would say they're made of star stuff."

 _Shut up, Jim._ The expected rejoinder to his remark about Howler cheered him a little more. _You're doing pretty well on your own._ Blair sounded proud of him, and he accepted that pretty easily.

"That makes sense, actually." Rafe chimed in. "Hairboy is a pack member. He studies how packs operate together. How they work together. What's yours? The Jaguar?"

"Yup." He switched languages again. "C'mere, Prowler." The big cat stalked toward them lazily, stopping to bump Howler on the rump. "None of that, you two. Let's get Blair home, and then we'll see."

"Oooh, he's gorgeous, Jimbo." Leave it to Connor to gush over his cat.

"Can they help us find him, do you think? Will they?" Henri still wasn't sure about how to act around them.

"I think so. They'll help us narrow it down, anyway. Between them and Blair's idea, I think we can do this."

"Well, then, what are we sitting around for? Let's go do this." Simon had a point.

"C'mon, you two, you're with me." He gestured toward the door, and the animals followed him out.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized while writing / editing this chapter that I completely suck at action scenes. So, this is a little tamer than I envisioned, but it works.

Chapter 12

They headed down the stairs and to their vehicles. Jim hopped in his truck, taking Simon with him. Simon preferred not to ride with Connor unless he absolutely had to, and Jim could see why. She drove like a madman. Jim got comments on his driving, but that was usually when he was chasing a perp. There was no chase involved at the moment, though, so he could take his time, somewhat. Blair was in trouble.

He did have to admit, though, that being connected mentally to his lover was nice. It kept him aware of the state of things constantly. He wasn't sure how it would work when he got hurt, but they'd cross that bridge ... He turned on to the street near where he'd heard that press thing.

"Connor." He called over to Megan's car with his radio. "This is a good spot, don't you think? Central?"

Simon just gazed around impassively, probably trying to figure out angles and paths and means of entry.

"Yeah, Jimbo, looks good. Will you be alright, or do you need..." He knew what she was implying.

"I've got my Guide, don't worry. He's just not physically close." But he was right _there_ when he needed him.

"Oh, well, that's true, isn't it? Hadn't thought of it like that, mate." Jim rolled his eyes.

"Just do your job, Connor. I've got Simon here with me, too." He snorted, and Simon echoed it, both of them knowing that Simon couldn't do shit when he got stuck in a zone. But between him and Blair in his head, he figured he'd be alright.

"Okay, fuzzballs. Can you find him here?" Jim watched Howler and Prowler circle the truck, sniffing for Blair's 'scent', he supposed, and then jump back up into the back of the truck. Something was blocking them. Jim didn't become alarmed; he'd worked with them long enough to know that there were certain conditions to their help, one of which was that they wouldn't do anything if there wasn't immediate danger, or if there were ... certain pieces missing. Like they couldn't just chase down 'the bad guy who'd taken Blair.' They had to have a little more than that. And sometimes, Blair was out of their reach for whatever reason. He'd given up trying to make sense of when they could help and when they couldn't. Sometimes he wondered if they chose when they wanted to, and were capricious about it. He snorted. With whose totems they were, it was highly possible. _Anytime you want to start that singing thing, Pavarotti, go ahead. I'll stretch my senses a little to see if I can hear you. I'll chain them together. If I start to zone, do something in there to wake me up. I bet you could find a way._

Jim could hear Blair's mental snort, and his agreement. _Yeah, Jim. I could probably start wiggling some of these books around and see what it does. Or just blow some of the wind from my side in here..._

"Sandburg!" Jim barked, startling Simon. The older man turned and gave Jim a dark look, and he realized he'd spoken aloud. "Sorry, Simon. Sandburg's just getting creative and threatening to do ..." He stopped that sentence, knowing how it would sound if he ended it the way he was intending to. "He was ..." He looked sheepishly over at his boss. "You know how he says things ..."

"And you react. Yeah, I've only been working with the two of you for about five years, Ellison." Simon snorted, then turned toward Jim. "You don't seem all that crazy. You said when I dropped you off, you guys said you'd rather I shoot you than let you get separated. You're better off than you usually are when he's in trouble, Jim. What gives?

"He's okay. I know that." He tapped the side of his head. "And we -- um -- figured a few things out." He watched Simon's expression, heard his heartbeat, and smelled his chemistry and realized he was disgusted and did not want to know. "No, Simon. Not like that. We had to go through each other's memories. To understand."

"Oh, man. I bet that was rough." Simon's distaste seemed to ease off.

"You have no idea, Simon. I think it was harder knowing he was seeing all my stupid mistakes and the shit I went through in the Army and before then than it was to see him." He stroked his chin. "I think if we'd have had to do that during the initial bonding, we might not have survived it. But having it happen in that order, Simon..." He paused. "It worked out."

"Yeah, it sounds like it." Simon was starting to become uncomfortable again. He gestured out toward the houses. "Is he gonna do his singing thing, Jim?"

Jim snorted. _You singing yet, Sandburg?_

 _No, Jim. I wanted to wait until you were done with your conversation with Simon. Here goes._ And Jim could hear internally. It was like hearing the music through earphones before his senses came back online.

"That's weird." He spoke out loud again, knowing he'd have to explain this anyway. "I can hear him in my head. It's different, though, so I just have to look for that sound. Awful though it is."

 _Jim!_ Sandburg stopped the singing long enough to reprimand him quickly, and then he returned to it.

Jim chuckled. "He got a kick out of that." He opened the truck door, swung his legs out, and then lowered his head to his lap, lifting one of his feet up to his other knee. To all the world, it looked like he was retying a boot.

"Sneaky, Jim." Simon said softly.

"Yeah, I thought so. Now be quiet." Jim grinned over at him, and then touched his fingertip to the ball in his ankle, using it as a pressure point while he opened up his hearing. He was hoping the touch would work much like Blair's hands on his arm. He could hear the whirring sound, and the clanking of whatever it was that he'd heard the other day. He tuned them out, making them so much white noise in the background. He scanned the area, looking out even as he listened. _There._ They weren't the same as the voice in his head, but there were voices. He frowned. _Sandburg, pause for a moment, would ya?_ The music in his head stopped.

 _"Well, of course, we got the right one. See? His picture's right here. He's the one that's been after me."_ He heard a tapping sound, as though the man behind the voice was tapping a table.

 _"I'm not so sure, sir. I think he's someone else. I know he works with the guy, or I'm pretty sure. My source in the department says there's this pair that if you cross one, you get the other. If this is that pair, and we got the wrong one, sir..."_ This guy sounded nervous. A minion, then.

 _"Are you doubting me, Mossey?"_ Mossey. He wracked his brain for the name. As he did, he cast his senses out just a little further. The heartbeat sounded vaguely familiar.

 _"No, Johnny, I'm not. I'm just sayin' that we might've gotten the wrong guy is all."_ That was it. It was Johnny the Hand.

 **Bingo.** He turned to Simon, drawing his senses back into reasonable range. "Simon, it is Johnny, and they do have Blair. They also have a 'source' in the PD. Not someone in Major Crimes or anyone that knows us very well, so it has to be someone new, or someone on the fringes. Because I've been with the department for how long now?"

"Almost nine years, Jim." Simon drew his hand across his face in a weary gesture. "I hate dirty cops. Okay, so can you pinpoint where Johnny is?"

"I think that's where the furballs will come in." He turned to the back of the truck where Prowler was curled around Howler. "Are you two alright?" He called out softly, stepping out to pet them.

"That'd look weird to anyone who couldn't see them, Jim." Simon admitted.

Prowler looked up, and opened his mouth in a happily feral expression. He wanted to hunt. "Yeah, that's probably true." He looked back at Simon, and saw his confused look. "Oh, sorry." He must have spoken in Quecha. "Sorry about that. Yeah, I bet I do look odd. I've given up normal, Simon. It's too hard." There was a tiny bit of resignation in his tone, but for the most part, he realized he just didn't give a damn anymore.

 _Oh, Jim._ The sadness in Blair's voice made Jim catch his breath. _I'm sorry._ Leave it to Blair to blame himself like that.

 _Not your fault, Babe. I wasn't born for normal._ He sighed, and gestured toward the general direction of the sound of the voices. "Go on, then. Howler, find our boy. Prowler, you go find Johnny for me, would ya? Let's tie this thing up, and put this hunt to rest." It was a different way of expressing the case, but Jim had found, when talking to his totem, it was easiest to stick to tribal metaphors. And, if he was honest, cases were just like hunts. Finding the tracks of the prey, following them to their lairs, and taking them back to the safe place. The difference was that he had no intention of eating any part of Johnny the Hand. Just imprisoning him for life for his crimes. Especially now that he'd added kidnapping to the list. _Blair, did you get all that?_ He referred to the conversation.

 _Yeah, Big Guy. Ring side seats. Like a radio drama, man._ Jim ducked to hide his smile as he listened to Blair's eager response.

 _Well, if that gives you any clue to where you are in comparison to where they are, let us know. We'll get Johnny first, that way he doesn't end up coming toward you. If you hear something, holler, would ya?_

 _Will do, Captain._ And the seriousness of it proved that Blair had been watching all those memories. It created an internal groundswell of pride inside him.

 _Oh, that's a nice sound, Jim. What emotion is that? It feels like -- It's like a parade._ That was his Blair. Always trying to figure things out.

 _Pride, Chief. Now hush, and let me find you._ Me Sentinel. You guide. Me Blessed Protector. He snorted, and sent the totems on their way with soft slaps to their respective rumps.

"Let's go find the bad guy, Captain." He gestured to where Prowler was stalking off. "He's going after Sampson. I figure if we get the guy _before_ he gets to Blair, we can just take him in, get to Blair, untie him, and take him home _without_ any shots fired." He could hope.

"Shhh, Jim! Don't jinx it!" Simon chuckled and the pair of them traipsed off after the Jaguar.

* * *

 

Blair sat in his chair, listening to the input coming through his link with Jim. It was very weird. In one part of his mind, he saw himself standing in Jim's "library", getting audio and sometimes visual input from Jim. However, he could relegate that to the back portions of his mind. Or, if he needed to, he could bring it back to the forefront, putting more attention and focus on it, and it would get -- bigger, louder, more _present_. It was extremely fascinating.

It wasn't that often that he got to be on this side of the rescue. Usually, he had to sit here, wait, entertaining himself, nerves sharp and shocky with fear. This way, he _knew_ that his Blessed Protector was on the way, _knew_ Jim was okay and acting, and _knew_ he could probably help prevent a zone should Jim need him to. He knew his most powerful weapon during a zone-out was his voice, and Jim still could hear him, especially if he spoke in Guide or Shaman voice. (He'd begun to notice a distinct difference.) This time, he also knew that Jim was aware of his mental and physical state, and wasn't as worried about him. There was none of the sharp fear for Jim, either.

 _Maybe Incacha was right._ He meant that solely for himself, but figured Jim could hear it. So, he elaborated. _We are very good for each other, Jim, and --_ Blair heard the soft, sultry music that meant Jim was thinking about them as lovers again. He snickered. However, before he could reply to that emotion, to either encourage it or help him table it for now, he heard a soft scratching noise outside the door, and then heard a key in the lock. _Jim, someone's coming. I'll keep the 'link' open, so you can hear it. Maybe it'll help you find me. I'll try to stall whoever it is._

There. There was the fear. Not so much all-out terror as wory. Protective need and worry. Blair smiled at the thought and then schooled his face, intentionally thinking about Brad Ventriss to be able to do so. _Sorry, had to think of something to get angry._

When the door swung open, Blair was surprised. Mindy Parkinson walked in. "Blair Sandburg. You just had to go mess up a really good deal, didn't you?" She moved over toward him, and then ran a finger down his cheek.

Internally, Blair shuddered with revulsion, but he tried to make it look like he was angry and afraid. "Mindy? What -- what's going on?" In his mind, he could feel Jim paying more attention to him. Jim probably had his picture on the main screen, so to speak. Although he knew that Jim was also going after Johnny, Blair was fully aware that his focus would be on this situation. Simon and the others could track Johnny if they needed to.

"I met this _guy_ , Blair. He's pretty powerful. He got me out of that mess," Mindy waved a hand, gesturing to the open air, referring to a situation she'd told Blair about, "and he's been buying me all sorts of things. Almost anything I want, really."

Blair was sickened. True, it was pretty much what the guy deserved, but she was a manipulative little bitch. _Use this, Jim. Use the information. Plant the seed in his head somehow. Stage a conversation with Simon or something, and implicate that assistant, maybe?_ Blair was all for getting them mad at each other, at least long enough for them to lose enough focus for Simon and the others to get a drop on Johnny. It seemed like if they got him in custody, all the others would fall into rows like little dominoes.

 _That sounds like a good idea, Blair._ Blair wasn't sure if the praise was intentional, but he'd take praise from his lover, even subconsciously. He felt a small smile forming on his face, and fought like hell to keep the 'fearful' look there.

"What's funny?" Oops. Apparently, either Mindy knew him well enough, or he was just that see-through. It could be either, he mused.

"Just thinking that the more things change, the more they stay the same. You know this guy is gonna find out you're using him." Blair attempted to draw her out, stall her. He didn't know her well enough to know what she was capable of doing. He certainly didn't want to find out if she was a sociopath. Visions of David Lash ran through his head. _Why do I always get into these situations, Jim? Do I have a big white placard on me with huge letters screaming 'Here! This guy's the weakest link! Kidnap this one!!'_

Blair could hear Jim's snickers. _Hush, Chief. Trying to stage that conversation. Laughing won't help. But no. You just look a lot less powerful than you are. All your power is ... otherworldly, so nobody realizes what a bad-ass you are until you drop a vending machine on their asses._

Now it was Blair's turn to fight the grin. He lowered his head, trying to hide his face. When he had gotten under control, he looked up again, and scowled as much as he could at Mindy. "You know guys like that are users, don't you? I mean, there's a good chance he's already got someone on the side, waiting for your usefulness to expire. You know he's probably fucking her right now."

"Shut up, Blair! You're lying." Blair grinned at how easily she was manipulated.

"Are you sure? Because I thought I heard some interesting ... noises ... " He was sure to phrase it that way, in case it ever came up in court. Because they did hear interesting noises. Just not the ones she would think he was talking about.

 _Cute, Sandburg._ Jim sounded amused, and returned to his own ruse.

"Shut _up_!!" He'd pushed her far enough, and maybe just a little too far. "He's not _like_ that!!" She screeched at him, slapping him hard across the face. He felt Jim's attention ratchet up immediately.

 _I'm fine, man. Just fine. Get Johnny, and I'll deal with psycho-bitch here. After you've got him trussed up, or whatever, come rescue me._ He sent his lover the image of Jim riding a white horse, carrying a big shield and sword.

 _Shut up, Sandburg, and do your thing. Keep her talking. We've almost got ..._ There was a long pause, and Blair pulled on the bond a little, moving more closely toward his lover's side of their shared mind-space. _Got him._ There was a pure satisfaction that oozed through Jim's words. _On my way, Blair._

The relief and joy Blair felt wouldn't stay bottled. He grinned up at Mindy, and shook his head ruefully. "Oh, man. You are in such deep shit."

His mood reversal seemed to confuse her for a few moments. "Why?" She paused in her stride, and Blair wondered if she wasn't going to slap him again. He was kind of glad he'd stopped her, if that was the case.

"Because." Just about that time, Howler came bounding through the door. "Hey, boy." He grinned, not caring at all if Mindy looked at him oddly. "Your timing is perfect, isn't it?" He cooed at his totem, nudging him gently with his knee, grinning widely at Howler's tongue lolling out of his mouth. "Who's a good boy?"

"What the hell, Blair?" Mindy was thoroughly confused now, and Blair could only grin. Well, grin and,

"Five..." He paused, giving Mindy a very feral grin, now. "Four..." Another pause. He could literally _feel_ Jim coming closer. "Three..."

"What the hell?" Mindy was repeating herself now. "If this is just an attem -- "

"Three..." Beat. "Two ... " He'd time this about perfectly. "One. Buh-bye, Mindy. Have a nice life."

"Cascade Police! Freeze!" She threw her hands into the air, and Jim grinned over at Blair as he cuffed Mindy Parkinson. "You have the right to remain silent ...."

 

* * *

 

Jim couldn't stop laughing as he cuffed the bitch and handed her off to Connor, who walked her out to the patrol car. "Dammit, Blair, talk about a ride into the Sandburg Zone. That's definitely a new use for the fuzzballs, though." He looked down to where Howler was sitting, waiting patiently, grinning like a lupine loon. "Yeah, yeah." He switched languages again, even for the wolf. "You're such a smart-ass." He was a bit surprised he could say that so well, then remembered several drunken conversations with some of the tribe's warriors. _How am I seeing this? I don't remember it. Haven't for years._

 _That's the easy part, Jimbo._ Blair replied saucily, including a mental snicker for the nickname, as Jim started to untie his hands. _Since I went through it, you can look through my recollections of what was in your head. It's kind of like, I read the files, so you can go find the files that I read, even though they're your files. It's completely screwy, man. But I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I mean, this is totally awesome. Anything that's ever happened to us, almost total recall, man. I wonder if we could use it for ..._

Jim silenced him by finishing untying knots on his feet and helping him up to a stand. The other detectives had left the room, leaving the two alone. So, Jim did what was instinctive. He pushed Blair gently up against the wall, and began checking him out as gently as he could, making his examination as thorough as he could and still leave the man clothed. After he made sure that everything was just right, he held him there, and lowered his lips to his soulmate's, kissing him slowly, reconnecting just enough to return to complete wholeness. The rest could wait until later. _Shut up, Sandburg. I mean..._ He winced at how harsh he sounded. _Even though I could hear you the whole time, you mouthy bastard, I still worried like hell. You shouldn't taunt the punks like that, Einstein._ He gentled his kiss, and pulled back, lowering his head down to sniff proprietorially at Blair's collar. _Love you, Chief. Love you more than anything._

 _Love you too, Big Guy. Man. I am **so** ready to go home. Just spend some time snuggled together on the couch._ Jim felt the body in his arms tense up.

"What's wrong Blair?" He molded his body over his lover's, turning his head back and forth to scan for more potential threats. When Blair spoke, he nearly cuffed the idiot in relief, but realized the man's wrists and ankles were aching, and didn't want to add anything to the pain.

"Oh, shit. We've got some 'splainin' to do, don't we?" Blair groaned, and lowered his head to rest on Jim's chest.

Jim rolled his eyes. "Yes, Ricky. We've got lots of 'splainin' to do. So, let's go get it overwith, huh? Then, maybe we can catch the Jags' game tonight." He grinned, and released Blair. The two of them walked toward where the cars were, laughing and joking the whole way.


	13. Chapter 13

Blair woke up to an insistent pulse inside his head. He rolled over and looked to see where Jim was. Unsurprisingly, the bigger man was no longer in their bed. He grinned, and reached out, attempting to locate Jim through their bond. They'd been playing with the bond more in the weeks since Blair had been last kidnapped, and had found several other useful skills. Like being able to find each other easily by feeling the pull of the bond. That had come in handy several times. He found him downstairs, cooking up breakfast. _Everything okay, Jim?_

 _Hmm?_ Jim sounded as though he didn't realize Blair had awakened yet. _Oh, shit. Did I wake you, Chief?_ Blair could almost see him cock his head up to hear the change in heart rate. _What woke you this time?_ They'd found that different things would wake the other man up, and were still discovering all the effects of the gamut of emotions.

 _This feeling like a pulse. What were you thinking about?_ Blair gave up on sleeping any more, and rolled out of bed, striding proudly down the stairs, not caring about his nakedness.

"This afternoon. I'm nervous, Blair. Naomi accepting something like this is one thing, but Chief, this is my dad. And Steven." He stepped toward Blair, moving to kiss him good morning. "Ugh, Gonzo. Morning breath. Go clean up, and I'll have breakfast ready when you get out."

Blair chuckled at Jim's fastidiousness. It was yet another thing he'd grown to love about the man. "Alright, Mister Clean." He grinned a bright grin at Jim, and strolled happily into the bathroom. As he went, though, he attempted to reassure his lover. _Don't count them out yet, Jim. I mean, the guys in Major Crimes really surprised us, as did the Chief and the Mayor, and that fed we talked to. I **hated** talking to that guy. Smug bastard._ He replayed the memory in his mind, and then reached up with a mental black permanent marker and drew on his face like a French thief or that singing Pokemon.

He could hear Jim's laughter, and welcomed it even as he turned on the shower. _That's great, Sandburg. Now every time I see the bastard, I'll start laughing. He'll be even more pissy at us._

Blair stepped into the steaming water, and laughed himself. _Didn't know that was possible, babe._

* * *

 

While Blair showered, Jim finished up breakfast and made sure the house was tidy. His dad and brother would be over in a couple hours, and he wanted everything to be perfect. Sally was coming with them, but he wasn't as worried about her. Blair said he had a way to describe it to her like he'd done for Rafe and Brown. He cocked his head, listening to his man clean up and get ready for the day. It was a comforting sound, underscored by Blair's steady heartbeat, his unique scent, and the rhythms of his movements. Blair had a certain way of going about things that just centered Jim. Or did now, at any rate. Before they finalized their bond, it tended to drive him batty. He chuckled at the thought, and flipped the omelet over. He pulled the pan off the fire just as the tiny bubbles started to widen, and flipped the eggs onto a plate with ease. Sometimes, the senses really did help him out. And in strange ways. "You comin', Chief? Omelet’s done. Don't want it to get cold." He knew his mate could hear him even through the water. Sure enough, the water turned off, and Jim could hear him toweling off, running his pick through his mess of curls, and scurrying into the spare room to get dressed.

Even though he wasn't sleeping there, they'd decided to keep Blair's room as an 'escape' for him. It also helped keep up the facade that the two of them were still landlord and tenant, instead of being more like spouses. Besides, that way Jim could let him have a little chaos and not go completely insane. _Comin', babe. Just have to -- ahh -- there._ Jim was getting used to this second-level running commentary. The nice thing about it was, if he was doing it mentally, he wasn't always doing it audibly, so others could focus on other things. He grinned, and moved the omelets to the table, grabbing the juice and the bacon, too.

"That's okay, Sandburg. Don't rush so fast you fall on your ass." Jim teased gently.

"Oh, cute, Jim." Blair strode out of the room, dressed this time. Jim stifled the momentary pang of dislike at seeing him clothed at home, but with his family coming.... _Jim. Ugh. Don't even think about that._

Jim laughed again, and gestured to Blair's plate. "Sit down, Romeo, and dig in. If you need more, I can make more. I might, myself."

"Thanks, Jim." He nodded, and they finished their food in relative silence.

After they finished, the two of them did a few small chores, working in tandem. That was the other thing they'd learned through the last few weeks. They'd developed a sense of where each other was, so much so that when they were physically near each other, they could move in concert, anticipating and working together like they'd been training to do so for years on end. Blair had postulated that it was all the hot steamy sex, but Jim had mentioned his time in the Army, and there definitely wasn't any sort of connection like that in the Rangers. Not normally, anyway. They'd had to agree it was probably a result of the connection, though they did acknowledge that knowing each other's bodies so intimately didn't hurt the process at all.

When the loft was so clean it nearly had a sparkle, Jim plopped down on the couch, pulling his lover down on his lap, and sighed. "Only about an hour, Chief. You ready?"

Blair automatically shifted his weight, turning so that he could snuggle up against Jim's body. "Mmmhmmm." He looked up from where he'd buried his head in Jim's shoulder. "I just want to get this over, Jim. Get back to normal. I think this is like the very last step. Sort of a public announcement, but not quite ..."

Jim nodded. He wasn't sure he agreed, but he certainly understood Blair's reasoning. "Yeah. Sandburg. I think you're right." _Still worried, though. He's rejected me once for this stuff..._ He couldn't help letting that thought slip through, so he didn't bother trying to block it.

 _I know, Jim, but this is different. If nothing else, we'll bring the fuzzballs out. If he doesn't believe us, then..._ Blar's primary thought petered out, but his secondary thought kept right on going in its place. _Fuck 'im. Fuck 'im sideways, man. You're mine. If he doesn't want you in his family, then I'll be family for you._ Jim ducked his head, and turned just so, moving to meet Blair's lips again in an appreciative kiss. It warmed up, and they sat there just necking and snuggling like teenagers.

* * *

 

Blair sat on Jim's lap, warmly ensconced in his lover's arms. He sighed happily and returned to kissing his man with abandon. However, before they could really get too far into it again, Jim pulled back.

"They're here, Chief. You want me to get the door?" Jim looked nervous, and Blair gave him one last peck for luck, and stood up.

"Naw, man. I'm up. I'll get it." He grinned brightly over at Jim, and then straightened his clothes quickly. He still beat them to the door, and opened it just as they reached the top step.

"How did you..." William was always so surprised when Jim showed off his Sentinel skills.

"I imagine he heard us coming, Bill." Sally replied, giving Blair a small smile.

"Well, Jim did, yeah." Blair smiled back, gesturing to the open door. The three visitors walked in, and Blair closed the door behind them.

"Jimmy -- I mean, Jim. Good to see you." William moved over toward his son, and gave him a quick, cursory hug. Blair gave an internal snort, trying to keep the mental dialog about families and affection to a dull roar until they knew. Just in case Jim decided to have a verbal response.

"Hey, Dad. Take a seat." Jim had gotten up, of course, and gestured toward the couch. "Steve." His brother got a handshake-cum-hug that was a little longer, a little more enthusiastic. "Sally." She got a complete Jim Ellison special hug. He smiled thinking about them, until Jim looked at him over the diminutive woman's shoulder with a blush creeping up his face. _Cut that out, Sandburg._

 _Sorry, Jim._ Blair ducked his head and moved to sit on one of the chairs, letting Jim, Sally and Bill sit on the couch together. Steve took the other chair.

"So, big brother, what's up?" Steve asked the inevitable question.

"Well..." Jim glanced over to Blair, and Steve started chuckling softly.

"You owe me twenty bucks, Dad." He grinned at Jim with a grin so much like Jim's own that Blair's breath caught.

Jim looked up at Blair, and gave a small, telling smile.

"I believe you're right, Stevie." Bill sighed and pulled his wallet out, fishing for a twenty. "Here."

"You were betting on me sleeping with him?" Jim asked, nonplussed.

"Well, yeah." Steven replied, somewhat surprised at Jim's reaction. "What? I notice things."

"And you were worried." Blair piped in, grinning widely.

"Welcome to the family, Blair." Sally said, adding a smile of her own.

"Thanks, Sally." Blair chuckled. "But that's, um, only about what... half of what we need to tell you about? You want me to start, Jim, or do you want to do it? Since you've gotten so good at the spiel..." He felt a mental noogie, and started chuckling. "Alright, alright. I'll start, and you can chime in if you need to. That work? They're your ... tribe, so to speak, so you do have the lingua franca down. Help me avoid the minefields." He continued to grin, but it was more of an easy, loving grin than his normal cheesy one.

"That'll work, Sandburg." Jim said, gesturing grandly. "Go ahead, Professor."

"You still call him by his title?" Bill frowned.

"Oh, no. It's a nickname." Blair hurried to assure the man. "Okay, um, it's easier for me to explain it to Sally than to you guys, because man. Americans are really twitchy about certain things. Sally, we have visited Heaven. Or someplace that reminds us of it." Bill turned toward his housekeeper when she drew in a sharp breath.

"And you're still alive?" She sounded in awe. Blair realized he'd picked the right analogy again.

"Yes, ma'am. Amazingly enough." She shook her head slightly, and leaned forward.

"Tell me about it, please."

So, Blair began the story again, telling about the shared bonds, the connections and links that built slowly. They all knew about Jim's 'gifts', and had grudgingly come to accept Blair's. So, this wasn't quite as hard for them to believe as it may have been. Blair was thankful for that. Jim chimed in some, but mostly to offer soft jibes to keep the attitude light. His running commentary in their minds kept the grin on Blair's face, long after when he might have sunk into pure 'teaching mode' and begun asking leading questions. It reminded him that he was with a family, not a classroom.

When they finished, the three of them sat there, somewhat stunned. Bill was the first to recover. "So, you can hear everything in his head?" He looked between the two of them, and quirked an eyebrow. "That's got to be very ... unsettling." He reached up and rubbed at his temple, as though he were trying to understand how that would work.

"I can't imagine it, Jimmy." Steve added, looking very much like his father in that moment.

Sally's take was very different. "May I meet them, Blair?" She sounded as if she were addressing a Holy Man, and Blair wondered if it changed his status in her mind. Those who entered Heaven and lived... He grinned.

"I think they'll come out. You're family. Part of the ... pack. Or, I guess in Jim's case, Pride."

"Pride's lions, Chief." Jim offered, saucily. "Jaguars are a jamboree. I looked it up." Blair blinked, but nodded. Trust Jim to gather information on his spirit animal like that. He grinned, and let the mild surprise pulse through the bond.

"Shut up, Sandburg." Jim growled, mostly good-naturedly.

"What?" All three of their visitors looked between them, wondering what Jim was complaining about.

"Oh, I just told him I was surprised he knew that. That's why we had to tell you, or at least partly why. Because conversations around us are kinda weird."

"Like they weren't already," Steven muttered, getting dual looks of censure from his father and mother-figure. "What? Blair's good for Jim, yes. But you have to admit it's still very weird."

Jim just laughed, letting Steve have his moment of discomfort. "Well, it can get even weirder. We'll start a sentence verbally, then finish it mentally, vice versa, or just keep it all mental until one of us bursts out laughing, or groans, or ... "

"Yes, we get the picture." Bill looked decidedly uncomfortable with where the train of thought might have gone. He was trying very hard to be okay with this, and Blair admired his attempts.

"Yeah. Like now, I know exactly what Blair's thinking, and I agree." He smiled, a real, content smile. "I'm glad you're all trying your damnedest to deal with this instead of ..." And the reality of the rest was left, unsaid, but present in the room like Howler and Prowler. Unseen in the corner. He could have said, 'like shoving it to the side and not believing me. Like last time.' But, thankfully, he held his tongue.

"I am sorry, Jimmy." Bill still caught the strong subtext.

"Water under the bridge, Dad. It might have saved my life."

"Thank you, son." That was very gracious of Jim, and everyone in the room knew it, including the fuzzballs. Howler licked a stripe down Prowler's back, at least the part he could reach without moving too much. They were curled up together again.

"Sure." He switched to Quecha, but Blair could hear the translation in his head. "How 'bout it, guys? One last time for now? Meet my family?" The bonded pair ignored the startled looks from Jim's family, and gazed over into the corner where the fuzzballs stood up.

"They'll show themselves to you, so don't be startled. They can be a bit unsettling when you see them at first. Howler?" Blair called, patting his leg. "Howler's mine. He's a wolf."

"And he sheds." Jim poked, just as Blair expected. He'd done so every time they'd introduced them. "Well, he would if he was corporeal."

"Big words, there, Big Guy." Blair poked right back, looking up at Jim with a slight smile.

Steve snickered, and then stopped. "Ho-ly shit. Dad, are you seeing this? Sally?" He pointed to Howler whose tongue was lolling out again.

"Language, Steven." Sally chided, in a tone that sounded automatic. "I see him. He is from Heaven?"

"He is." Blair nodded. "He is my Guide from Heaven, or the representation of who I am there. At least as nearly as we can understand it."

"May I touch him? Will he allow such a thing?" Blair frowned as he considered it. Sally appeared to be reconsidering her request.

"Whaddya think, fuzzball?" Jim asked in Quecha, covering the familiarity they shared with their totems by his language change.

Howler's only answer to that was to pace slowly over toward Sally, and turn sideways, offering a side for him to pet.

"He's a hedonist, Blair." Jim snickered, then continued mentally. _Just like you, huh, Chief?_

Blair ducked his head to cover the flush, but grinned. "Yeah, he is. He likes being petted."

"So, that's your animal. Where's yours, Jim?" Bill looked around, hoping to see this insight into his son's personality.

Prowler stepped out of the corner, and stretched languidly, pacing a little more quickly.

"Oh, my. He's regal." Prowler dipped his head to Sally, as though acknowledging her compliment. "I can see how he fits you, Jimmy."

Blair looked up at the Ellison men. Jim was watching the jaguar fondly, but Bill looked contemplative, as though considering what this meant about his son. "He is very protective of you, isn't he?" Bill asked, looking up at Blair before returning his attention to the creature now in front of him, standing nearly at attention as though expecting an inspection.

"Oh, yeah." Blair chortled softly, and drew out the words. "You can imagine..." And Bill nodded his assent.

"He's -- " Steven sounded like he was at a loss for words. "He's a very handsome creature, Jim. Strong, too." He reached forward, leaning just a bit, and touched him. "How does that feel?"

"I can feel it, Stevie." Jim replied, grinning at Steve's confused look. "It really depends on intent, which is why we keep these guys hidden, but I can feel sort of a curiosity, but it's not a bad thing. It's -- like introductions in the animal world." _Without all the butt-sniffing._

That did it. Blair just started laughing loudly. Jim's family looked up at him surprised. "Jim..." He wasn't sure if that was intentionally sent. But if it was, he was gonna pay for it later.

 _Promise, Sandburg?_ Well, at least Jim was feeling better. "Sorry, guys. We're still working on keeping our deeper thoughts completely private." Jim smiled, that self-deprecating smile that only showed up when he was doubting himself. "And you all know what a smart-ass I am."

"Jim." Sally chided him for his language as well, but as before, it was only a token protest. Probably only given because everyone expected it.

"Well, it's true, Sally." Jim teased, then sat back. "Alright, fuzzballs, go on. Thank you."

"What language is that, Jim?" Bill asked, still pensive.

Blair decided to answer, and gave a quick, tentative probe to his lover. When he got an affirmative mentally and with a gesture, he was the one to reply. "It's Quecha. It's used in Central Peru by several of the indigenous tribes there. Jim learned it during his time down there."

"I had to. It was either that or die of starvation." One night, they'd started going through some of the memories Jim had locked away, and Blair had tried to pull some of Incacha's techniques out of them. They didn't get too far, and were going to return to it, but it had helped a little.

"Oh. And why do you talk to the animals in that language?" Jim's dad was persistent.

"Because he doesn't like Prowler's name." Blair gave the flippant answer this time.

"Well, partially that, yeah, but partially because I associate him with Peru, and my mind automatically starts thinking in Quecha. After you've been immersed in something for several months, it's only habit to go back to that when you're in that situation. Kind of like -- " Blair could feel Jim casting about for an appropriate analogy; he opened drawers, and scanned titles on the shelves of his mental library. "Help me out here, Sandburg."

"Like, well, the easiest metaphor is Jim's time in the service. It wouldn't matter how long he's been out, if he puts on the uniform, he automatically stands a little straighter, either at attention or parade rest, and salutes a flag, and expects things to be a certain way."

"That makes sense." Steve was nodding. Blair wondered if he still wasn't thinking about the animals.

"Yeah. Like I always do things the same in the office, even after long vacations. It just happens." Blair could see the wheels turning in William Ellison's mind. "Thank you for sharing this, Jim. Is there anything -- " He paused, and Blair thought he might be unsure of how to proceed, what he wanted to ask. Fortunately, the bonded pair had a pretty good idea what he was fishing for.

"Mainly, Dad," Jim began, "we need you to make sure we're together if something happens to us. Like in the hospital or something. Because it speeds up recovery. Our current medical staff know about it, but if something happens to them, we need to be able to have certain things done. Like I can't have a whole bunch of different medicines. I think I sent you that list..." Jim trailed off, and he mentally asked Blair whether they'd done so. When Blair sent a soft affirmative back, he continued. "Yeah. Simon's gone to bat for us a whole bunch of times, and the rest of Major Crimes know -- mostly because Blair's a trouble-making little shit -- " This time, he didn't even wait for Sally to speak. "Sorry, Sally." He chuckled and continued. "He got kidnapped _again_ a couple of weeks ago. It turned out to be less trouble than we thought it might, because he was alert. But when he wasn't, I was unconscious too. I don't know if that'll happen every time, but ... "

"Should you find a less dangerous job?" Bill asked, leaning forward.

"No." This was echoed by both men.

"No, Bill, he can't." At their questioning looks, Blair continued. "The whole evolutionary point of a Sentinel in the first place is to protect the tribe. Now, in ancient times and in less modernized cultures, that meant doing all sorts of things: patrolling the borders of the tribe, helping to catch food, perhaps, maybe even healing. But in today's society, there's really only a few occupations that can be considered by the tribe to be 'protectors.' Policemen, firemen, soldiers -- all the men and women at the very front lines. I'd lump doctors and nurses in there too, but they don't have quite the same reputations as the old healers and shamans did. Nor the same functions. Many times, the Healers and Shamans were a combination of pastor -- or rabbi, or what have you -- doctor, nurse, teacher, sage, expert ... you name it. If you wanted to know or needed something with information, the Shaman was the first place to start. If he didn't know, he'd know who -- " Blair stopped mid-sentence, his eyes brightening. _That's **it** , Jim. I don't have to have all the answers, man. I just have to know who to go to. And I do._ He stood up and started pacing, ignoring the confused looks of everyone else but his bond mate. Jim, for his part stood up as well, chuckling and moving to intercept Blair's movement.

"Chief. That's an excellent thought, but let's finish this lecture first before we start the new one, huh?" He grabbed one of Blair's curls and gently pulled, releasing it to spring back into place.

Blair laughed, and nodded. "Yeah. Sorry about that. Just realized something. Anyway. That's about all I have to say about that." He moved to take his place out of the middle of things, but paused and looked toward Bill again. "Another side effect of the bond, though, Bill ... " He sent a reassurance to Jim, who was slightly panicking at what Blair was thinking. _This needs to be said, Jim, and I'm the only person able to say it._ "Is that both of us can walk back through our memories to the time when we started making them. The earliest ones are more fuzzy, but that's more an issue of perception, I believe, than of the information not being there." Bill's face had gone white. "I've seen every single thing Jim's been through. I've seen it through his admittedly biased eyes, but I've seen it. And -- " He pursed his lips, gathering some of the power that he knew he had, and gazed intently at the older man. "And I've got to say, that if you treat either one of your sons like that again, I will call Heaven down." He could see Sally shudder, presumably at his words.

"I -- " Bill closed his eyes. "I thought it would be best. I thought it would teach them to be strong. It was how I was taught, only I was less of a bastard. Not by much, though."

"Bill!" Blair couldn't stifle the soft chuckle at Sally's interjection.

"Well, I was. For what it's worth, my sons, I am sorry. Again." He'd apologized once to Jim, at least when this issue had come up before, but it was nice hearing it again, and also nice for him to include Steven in it.

"Water under the bridge, Dad. Like I told you earlier." He reached over to ruffle his little brother's hair, attempting to lighten the mood. Blair just smiled, letting the power recede back into the ether. "But it means a lot that you're willing to try to fix things. Even if my little shaman is going into Blessed Protector mode himself, and interfering in things." He gave Blair a cheesy smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Blair knew Jim wasn't angry, just worried.

 _It's okay, Big Guy. I needed to do that. I really did. I hate that ..._ He let the thought trail off, not needing to finish it. _Sometimes, I need to show you how much I love you, man._

Now it was Jim's turn to blush a little. He hid it well, but Sally grinned at him. "Thank you for inviting us over."

Jim nodded and then turned to Blair. "Should we order some food, or go out somewhere, Chief?"

That turned the discussion to more mundane and safer things.


	14. Chapter 14

After they'd gone out for food, Jim and Blair returned back to the Loft, grinning and joking lightly with each other. Jim shut the door behind them, locking things up and going through his shutdown routine. He couldn't believe that his lover had threatened his father like that. On the one hand, it made him feel proud of Blair and somewhat glad to have someone willing to stick up for him. On the other hand, though, Jim felt bad for his dad. He'd already apologized at least once, and Jim really didn't want to be on the receiving end of whatever it was that Blair was doing. _That_ had been fairly new, too, or at least a new use for something they'd already seen.

 _Lover, stop your fretting and come up here. I needed to let him know you were mine and that you have a protector, too. Not just from him, but from the crap the outside world as well._ Jim marveled at the love and hidden power in Blair's words. He moved quickly to finish up and strode toward the stairs, considering what they could do tonight. _No._ Jim heard the power behind his voice again. _No, Jim. Tonight it's up to me. Let me take care of you._

Jim sighed, and acquiesced. _Just let me know what to do, Chief._ Never had that nickname been so appropriate. _Do you want me to get undressed, or do you want to disrobe me?_ He had reached the top of the stairs by now, and gazed down at his naked lover with a fond smile.

"Hmmm." Blair tapped a finger against his lips, as though he were considering his options. "Go ahead and get undressed." He grinned up at Jim, and Jim grinned back. "Love you, you big galoot."

"Watch who you're callin' a galoot, Einstein." Jim chuckled and disrobed easily, dropping his clothes on the floor for once. He moved with a practiced slowness designed to arouse his lover.

"Get your ass over here, Ellison." Blair grumbled, patting the bed beside him.

"Yes, sir, Shaman, sir." Jim replied insouciantly.

Blair rolled his eyes and laughed, but opened his arms to welcome his lover into them. "Ohh, Jim. _This._ This is what I've been missing. I know we got to spend some time canoodling on the couch, but it's not the same. Skin, man. Skin." He started stroking Jim's skin, as though he was proving a point.

Jim's cock took notice, of course, and his Sentinel-sensitive skin felt every touch. Goosebumps ran down his arms when Blair touched there lightly. He dialed his sense of touch up just a little, relishing every soft caress. "God, Sandburg." He sighed out his pleasure with his breath, giving a soft moan.

Blair increased the pressure of the touches, stroking more firmly along Jim's pecs, his arms, his thighs, anywhere Blair's hands could reach. Licks followed touches, kisses followed licks. Blair took the time to map out his lover's body again, playing with Jim's sense of touch like it was a musical instrument. He let the pleasure pulse and flow, generating a quiet heat that built up into an inferno. Jim's cock was so hard by the time Blair started kissing him that he nearly came from the dual sensations alone. However, he held off.

 _Sandburg,_ Jim asked, continuing to kiss the other man. _Did you want me to top, or did you want the honors? I'm not gonna last much longer with the way you're playing me, Liberace._

 _Oh, god. Choices._ Even mentally, Blair sounded a little out of breath. Jim ran his hands along Blair's side, attempting to match him stroke for stroke. _Oh, god. I think I want you in me tonight, babe. Slow and sweet._

When the bond was still settling, they never really got the chance to take the time to enjoy themselves. They fucked a lot, but it was more like a mad rush to connect and commune than a slow, pleasurable glide to the end. So, now that they could, more often than not, they ended up making love slowly and lazily, enjoying every touch and kiss like it was treasure.

 _Sounds good to me, Blair._ Jim reached over for the lube, coating his fingers with it before setting it aside. He pulled back from the kisses to position Blair and begin preparing him. In keeping with what they'd discussed, he used long, slow strokes, easing his ass open. He tilted his head sideways just a fraction, listening to the changes in Blair's heartbeat, feeling the sensations Blair was feeling through the bond, opening himself up to the other man. When he'd stretched Blair enough, he grabbed the lube again, coating himself generously, and slid in, seating himself with a steady, slow thrust that had Blair groaning.

 _Jim._ Even Blair's deeper thoughts were insensate. He grinned, pushing just a little more, lifting Blair's hips to find that -- _Ohhh, there it is, big guy. That's it._

 _Such a hedonist, Blair. Just like your little wolf cub._ Jim began to pant, thrusting slowly, making sure to hit that spot every single time. The pleasure built between them, ricocheting back and forth, pulsing, growing, connecting. It seemed every time they did this, whether it was hard and fast or slow and lazy, the bond pulsed and thickened between them a little more.

 _Hey, man. It's the greatest feeling in the world. Being with you. Being in you. Being around you. Connecting and loving you like this._ Jim wasn't sure how much of what Blair was thinking was intentional, and how much was bubbling from his subconscious out into the link between them. However, it really didn't matter. This was his man. This was his mate. He belonged right here.

He kept moving, kept them on the edge for what seemed like forever. When they'd nearly fall, he'd pull back, ignoring the pleas and cries Blair made to just 'do it, man!' However, after awhile he began to tire, and he started to move a little more quickly. Leaning down to kiss his mate, he nipped softly at Blair's lips, groaning his pleasure into the kiss. Soon, he was thrusting wildly, nearing them to the edge again, then pushing them both over. They both groaned loudly, and came, Blair's spunk squirting messily between them, Jim's releasing inside Blair's body.

Pulling out and reaching for the roll of toilet paper beside them, Jim cleaned up hastily, tossing the used squares in the trash can beside the bed. Without moving too much, he righted things, put things away, and slid down to rest in the arms of his lover.

As they closed their eyes, they were drawn back into the jungle, this time just to walk and talk about the day. Neither man minded too much, and as their physical bodies slept, their spirits roamed through the blue mists, content to hold hands and laugh contentedly. While they strolled and communed at the deepest level, out in the waking world, two translucent forms guarded them vigilantly. They were connected, whole and safe.


End file.
